


These walls (they echo)

by theraccoonloon



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, F/F, do you tag major character death if they're already dead?, honestly a little bit like AHS murder house but not and better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:23:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theraccoonloon/pseuds/theraccoonloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Earp family moves into a 139 year old ranch house, Waverly Earp takes up the challenge to sleep in the most haunted room, the attic. Waverly then takes on the challenge to fight the ghosts and Nicole Haught really loves cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yay! Moving Day!

The looming, barren, vastness seemed to grow even more infinite with every inch of distance onward. Waverly stares out the window with her forehead against the cool glass. She takes a deep exhale just to watch the window fog. The feeling in her gut growing as the car soldiers on to its destination.

“You know, I totally call the big room.” Wynonna says to her left. She had pulled herself forward between the front seats to reveal her special announcement.

“As if.” Willa scoffs from the passenger seat. Wynonna immediately launches into a series of long winded and poorly thought out protests.

Waverly thumbs the pages of the novels in her lap. It’s long and, to most, quite bland, on The Epic of Gilgamesh focusing on, not just the tale, but the king himself. Rife with comparisons to biblical texts and opinions from respected historians, it had been absorbing a lot of Waverly’s thoughts.

Until Willa returned home, of course. She had gone far away to a school that the nice lady had said was “far better suited for someone of her ilk.” Apparently, it was some sort of au naturel, all-girls school for girls who “need a little more guidance to become fruitful members of society.” Now, she is home, which made Daddy decide to move homes, again, to re-accommodate the Earp household. Ward Earp was, well a drunk, but also a paranormal investigator which, of course, lead to the choice in a new house. A two floor, complete with a basement and attic, abandoned ranch house. When Waverly had looked into her new home, she found the facts. It had been abandoned on and off for the past 139 years with no record of people actually living in it for an extended period of time after that, other than the brief notes of renovation before each unsuccessful move in. The barn was a little younger than the rest of the house built just six years BMHV (Before Mysterious House Vacancy) and sure, it came with a lot of fenced in land, but Waverly would bet Steph’s skimpy skirts and her favorite book on the origins of Latin that it was not structurally sound.

Of course, Wynonna had chuckled at her theory and proceeded to immediately make a bet with Willa over who would break a leg first. Waverly smiles down at her book, Wynonna tends to be so easy-going. 

“Babygirl, look up! We’re almost there!” Wynonna tugs on her sleeve, she had finally quit her habit of delivering a series of excited slaps. 

Waverly looks up, and oh boy. The paint is faded and peeling, the wood of the porch looks like it holds more than enough potential to be rotten. She forces a pained smile at Wynonna. “Oh, joy. But, what a shame, it seems I’ve forgotten all my trust in drunken housing decisions back at home. How about you guys settle in while I go get that?”

Wynonna throws an arm around her little sister. “Just trust me, Waves. It’s gonna be great. If you’re still scared of ghosties, we could totally room together like the good old days.”

Waverly pats her hand stiffly. “As much as that assures me, you haven’t been here before either.”

Willa twists around in her seat. “Don’t be such a baby. It was only mildly haunted when Daddy took me to look at it earlier.”

Wynonna leans forward and gives Willa a friendly slap on the arm. “Willa, don’t kid. Not cool, bro.”

Willa looks Waverly dead in the eyes, with a straight face. “Who said I was kidding?”

Waverly pulls Wynonna back to her. “Please, take me back now.” Waverly just wanted to be in something structurally sound, and in town. Way out here the other kids are definitely going to think she belongs to a tribe of reclusive freaks. Ghosts aren’t that bad. Daddy hunts them. She’s been reading texts on them since she figured out how to sneak into Daddy’s study.

Wynonna sympathetically strokes Waverly’s braids before lifting her hands with her wrists ‘stuck’ together. “Sorry, Waves. My hands are metaphorically tied. Not literally, of course, that was two Friday’s ago with Justin Murphy.”

“Oh, gross. Wynonna.” Waverly pushes herself as far away from Wynonna as possible.

Willa turns around with a wicked grin. “I bet you I can sleep in the super haunted attic without having to move out for one whole month.”

Wynonna immediately jumps to the challenge. “Bet you that I can go for two.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

It really isn’t safe for them to sleep up there. “Guys, I really think that the attic would be the super unsafest place to sleep. It’s just that the high mo-“ Waverly begins explaining.

“-Quiet, Waverly. The big kids are talking. Anyways, Wynonna, I bet you my good pair of jeans.” Willa interrupts before returning the conversation to betting. Wynonna gives her an apologetic look and Waverly quietly seethes in her seat in spite of it.

“Don’t be too cocky. You’re as likely to win as Xavier Dolls is to break dress code at school. I bet you my favorite leather jacket.” Wynonna says, flush with confidence.  
“Oh, it’s on.” Willa holds out a hand to shake. Everything she does is like the time Waverly sat on a fire ant hill, but times a bajillion. Just plain irritating.

“On like drunken Donkey Kong.” Wynonna shakes and Willa’s smirk only seems to grow stronger.

“I bet you I could room there until the next house.” Waverly blurts out. She immediately slaps her hands over her mouth.

“Waves!” Wynonna exclaims in shock.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, little girl. Alright, you’re on. If you can do it, you can sit at the big kids table with the rest of it.” She holds her hand out to Waverly. “C’mon and shake it, goody two shoes, unless you’re lying?”

Waverly puffs out her cheeks and lets out a little huff of air. She gives Willa her firmest handshake, looking her in the eyes. The car hits the rocky road of the driveway and Willa pulls away, turning back around to the front in her seat. She holds eye contact as long as possible.

“Waverly.” Wynonna says again, but much quieter.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” She spares a glance at Wynonna. “I bet there’s asbestos.” She puts a hand over her face. “I hope we have enough menthol rub for when the mold gives us all chest infections.” 

Wynonna gives her a couple of back pats. “We’ll probably move again before half a year passes like always. It’ll be fine. On the plus side, we are still in the fine town of Purgatory.”

Waverly peeks at her through her fingers. “Haven’t you run away seven times?”

“Probably, I’m too cool to keep count.” Wynonna says wistfully, nodding to herself.

Waverly coughs. “I’m sorry I think your ego is taking up all the oxygen in the car or it’s the future interstitial pneumonitis from all the asbestos!” Waverly says pointedly.

“I’ll get you some masks, like they wear in Japan.” Wynonna gives Waverly a couple of motivational arm touches. Waverly glares at her big sister. “You like Japan!”

The car jerks to the halt. “Alright, girls. Get out an’ help.” Ward announces as he throws open the door of the car. “I’m g’nna go check on things roun’ th’ place.” He mumbles half to himself, half to his daughters. He waves half-heartedly at the moving truck behind him, which grinds to a halt and immediately, Doc Holliday, his ‘work assistant’ and Wynonna’s classmate and fellow miscreant, pops out of the driver seat.

“That’s a mighty fine structure you got yourselves there.” He says, staring the house down as Wynonna exits the car and wanders over to him, stretching all the while.  
“Thanks, now come help me lift heavy things.” Wynonna says with a yank on the collar of his shirt.

Willa gives Waverly another look before heading to join Wynonna. Waverly sighs and pops open the trunk. It’s full of the stuff that needs to be out immediately that she and Wynonna remembered to repack. Groceries, plates and utensils, lightbulbs (you know, just in case) cleaning supplies. Waverly pulls out the large bin and begins to carry it in. She pulls open the screen door which has ensnared many unfortunate insects and pushes open the actual door. She heads towards the kitchen, it has the newest updates along with the bathroom, like an actual refrigerator. She drops the bin onto the kitchen counter and begins unpacking, setting off to work into figuring out what goes where. She cleans as she goes, spraying and wiping down each surface before putting something down on it. She stuffs the second hand fridge with food and alcohol, because Ward Earp is much less fun without a cold one. She peeks out the window to the struggle in unloading. Wynonna looks like she’s berating Doc for accidentally being sexist in an attempt of being ‘gentlemanly’ and Willa looks bored of it all. Waverly sets off to scrub down all the surfaces she can, methodically starting with ‘most likely to be used’ to least. The broom didn’t fit in the trunk, thus she brought a small brush and dustpan. She cleans up the floors a little too, and luckily the window turns out not to be broken, just a little cracked. She works around the heavy lifters, occasionally lending a hand and laughing when Wynonna flexes after a particularly heavy item. 

When Willa half-heartedly comes in to tell her that the moving truck is halfway empty is when Waverly immediately gets to work on lunch. She begins testing out the new/old stove by warming up some soup and sets to work making sandwiches as it warms up. She hums to herself and mentally checks to see if she remembered to pack the hygiene projects. Wynonna briefly runs through the kitchen holding Doc’s hat over her head while Waverly is setting the table, which is when, in a stunning move of multitasking, Waverly scolds Wynonna for running in dangerous areas and tells her lunch is soon. Wynonna jets out of there with a quick plead for “triangles not squares” for her sandwich. She also pops her head back in with a promise that the dining chairs for the table would be delivered soon.

Waverly has finished pouring soup out for each bowl by the time Wynonna comes in, panting and dirty, with the proud announcement of every item moved into the house. Waverly laughs and hands her a beer.

Wynonna throws herself down into her seat before shouting for Willa and Doc. She opens the beer against the table and lifts her drink in the air. “Why does beer taste so good after a hard day’s work?”

Waverly questions the placement of the table for a moment before taking a seat and eating her sandwich. “The same reason going to bed feels good after walking through a storm.”

“Ah, yes. The sweet satisfaction of not having to do that shit anymore.” Wynonna says with a grin.

Doc appears at the doorway, he removes his hat for a moment to place it over his heart. “Waverly! What a fine feast you have made for us here today.”

“Shut up and eat, Doc. No one cares.” Wynonna says through a mouth full of food. He takes his seat with a chuckle as he puts his hat back on.  
“Is Willa going to join us?” Waverly asks as she grab Doc a beer from the fridge.

“Nah, I think she’s gone wherever Daddy is.” Wynonna says dismissively.

“Wynonna here says you are going up in the attic?” Doc asks after draining his soup bowl.

“What, you think I can’t do it?” Waverly challenges, nervously. She begins to inhale her meal.

“No, not at all, Braveheart. I was just trying to conversationally open up the opportunity to ask help move your boxes up in the attic right after this delightful meal you have made for us.”

“Oh, yeah, totally.”

“You won’t have to lift a finger. You’ve done fantastic cleaning up the place, Waves. Me and Doc’ll get everything up there.” Wynonna takes a thoughtful bite of sandwich. “Dude, you should totally go pick some flowers to brighten up the place or add a pop of color or whatever the fuck those home design mags say.”  
Waverly grins ear to ear. “You saw flowers?” 

“Yeah, there are lots of ‘em growing around the fence. Pretty colors and everything, not just Dandelions.”

“Score!” Waverly gets up and pushes in her chair. “And Wynonna?” Wynonna looks up from scraping the bottom of her soup bowl. “Please be careful with my things. The bindings to some of the books are old and fragile.”

Wynonna gives her a thumbs up. “I gotcha, Waves.”

She shoots her sister two thumbs up back before putting her boots on and heading outside. She mumbles to herself as she tries to remember where she put the vases. The grass is tall and uncared for, all yellow and sickly. The fence isn’t anything spectacular. Just logs of wood placed on top of each other to keep anything larger than a goat but smaller than a bear contained. Wynonna’s right about the flowers, Waverly thinks as she begins picking. It isn’t that she particularly loves flowers or is spooked by hard labor. Wynonna just likes protecting her, even in little dumb ways like not letting her put her boxes into her new attic room, it’s also probably an excuse to check it out. It’s okay, Waverly can let her do all these little things if it puts Wynonna’s mind at ease. Her big sister’s been nervous ever since Willa got sent away. Wynonna blames herself for the whole ordeal, she had been with Willa at the big inciting incident. It wasn’t like Willa was the picture of innocence beforehand. Some kid, Carl what’s-his-name had teased Waverly about her nutty family and her wackjob Daddy. Wynonna overheard and was more than a little pissed. It wasn’t unusual, all seven of the redneck families who lived on the fringes of the small town always had something to say about the Earps. The fathers, the kids. Carl’s dad had spat in Ward Earp’s drink when he had gone to get a drink from Shorty’s just a week earlier. Wynonna had told Willa, and Willa had gone on and on about the proud Earp name and how they need to teach the others to respect it. She pulled Wynonna into her ridiculous plan to set free and wild all of the redneck’s cattle. Wynonna agreed and so off they went into the night. 

They broke every fence gate open and yelled and hollered them out of their fencing. The minute the porch lights came on they ran away to the next house. On the second to last house, the crazy farmer had shot his gun into the night instead of turning his lights on. Like a smart girl, Wynonna took off, thinking of her safety. She was halfway to their old house when she noticed Willa wasn’t behind her. Turns out that one of the guy’s farmhands had nabbed Willa up and kept her there until the Sheriffs came. Wynonna thinks she could’ve saved them both if she hadn’t run.

Waverly twirls the flowers in her hands. The past always seems to suck. There’s a rush of movement in the grass near the barn that Waverly whips around to catch a glimpse of. Hopefully there isn’t an infestation of possums or something. She creeps over to the grass, pausing a small distance away. Quickly, she sweeps her boot through the grass. Nothing, a breeze must’ve moved the grass around or the creature’s already run off. She notices some purple daisies growing around the barn, Smooth Blue Aster, actually. These would look nice in her attic, she hoped. She picks a handful, careful to leave the root system so they can grow back. She heads back to the house, a bundle of flowers in each hand.

She kicks off her boots at the front door, no need to track more dirt indoors. She quickly looks around the first floor for the box labelled ‘decorations’ in her own writing. She found it helpfully deposited on the coffee table. She pulls the small knife out of her pocket and stabs it open. She leaves the flowers on the table and rushes to fill the vases with water, she can add sugar when she finds it later. She places one small bundle of flower on the windowsill at the front of the house and the other on the table. She fills the last vase with her aster and climbs up the stairs. She hears the thud and the “Goddammit Doc!” before she sees it. 

“Wynonna! You better have not broken one of my things or I won’t give you beer for a week.” Waverly calls out.

Wynonna’s head pops, upside down, out of the attic entrance. “This isn’t my fault for once.” Beneath her, Doc lays on the floor underneath a mattress. “Holliday, here has the grip of an armless amputee. He wasn’t holding your mattress right when he was passing it up to me. Everything’s all up here, we even found the time to reassemble your bedframe before trying to get the mattress up. And look, Waves.” She vanishes from sight and a ladder drops down from the ceiling, straight onto Doc’s exposed kneecap making him groan out. Wynonna’s head reappears. “Look at this. You have a ladder. It’s really- uh what’s the word, Doc?”

“Snazzy, I believe is the word you are looking for, Wynonna.” He says, sitting up and moving the mattress off of him.

“Sounds stupid, but sure. Anyways! Come on up, kid.” She extends a hand to take the vase from Waverly. Waverly passes it off to Wynonna and ascends the ladder.

“Tada! Ye olde humble abode.” Wynonna announces as she passes the vase back to Waverly. Waverly pulls the vase to her chest and looks around. The ceiling is low at the sides. Someone a pinch taller than her would struggle to stand straight that close to the walls. There’s one window that faces out into the vastness of the wild, on the other side, just behind the entrance in the floor, is a small door with a rusty knob. Wynonna had already pushed her bed near the window and into the corner. It’s a little dusty and dirty, but not as bad as Waverly had feared. Maybe Daddy had actually inspected it well. The small border of wallpaper mid-way up the wall is faded and peeling and the floor seems to have one old rug that the Earps definitely did not bring. Waverly put the vase down on one of boxes and goes to inspect the door as Wynonna struggles with Doc to get the mattress up. She reaches out and grabs the knob, curious as to what is on the other side. After all, her room isn’t big enough to take up the entirety of the house. She jiggles it and it doesn’t give. She pulls and pushes before letting go.

Wynonna falls backwards with a thump with the mattress in her home “And the last piece has arrived!” she announces, pulling herself back up and dragging it over to the corner. She plunks it down on top of Waverly’s box spring. She sits on it for a moment before noticing what her sister is transfixed on. Wynonna heads over and crouches next to her. “Oh, that? That doesn’t open.”

“Well, I know that now.” Waverly says, mindlessly scratching at the paint on the door.

“Willa said she scrubbed off some of the drawings and writings on the wall when she was here before us. The ghost presence here is strong, isn’t it? Like the dead people are giving major vibes.” Wynonna sits down and leans back on her hands. “No wonder she was willing to bet so hard that she could outlast me up here.”

Waverly shrugs. She’s not like her sisters. She doesn’t sense ghostly vibes like they can. She doesn’t mind. Sure, it makes her feel a little excluded for not having the all-important Earp gift. She tries to make up for it by understanding it scientifically. “I’m sure, from what I’ve read about this place and in paranormal text. This place could be rife with undead entities. What if we have another burial ground incident on our hands? I doubt we could deal with that.”

“I dunno, kiddo. I’m not sure if I feel comfortable leaving you up here with so many ghosts. There’s gotta be more up here then I have fingers.” Wynonna says. Waverly rolls her eyes. 

“You need to be getting your bed ready. You have a math test tomorrow and I promised you I’d bake you a cake if you achieved a minimum of seventy as a final grade in any of your classes and you need at least an eighty to achieve that. So, come on. Shoo. Scoot your boot. Send Doc home and get off to bed.” Waverly says rising to her feet and making shooing motions.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Wynonna gives Waverly a hug before shimmying down the ladder and yelling at Doc to get out of the house before she rips the molting squirrel off his face and sets it on fire.

Waverly wanders back to where she abandoned her flowers, still studying the room. With a smile, she plunks it down on the dusty windowsill. 

Oh, Willa is so going to eat it.

She finds the box and begins making her bed, starting with that damned fitted sheet. By the time she flopped down on the bed wrestling with the last corner, the sun’s already begun to go down. She plugs her lamp into the extension cord running up through the hatch in the floor. After getting the other sheets on and the comforter she finally stops to relax.

She looks back out the window, only to pause. Wasn’t the vase not that far to the left a few seconds ago? She pushes it back before starting to shove her pillows back into their cases. Wynonna had helpfully leaned her whiteboard against a wall, accidentally in the perfect place to be mounted. She pounds the nails into the wall that she left in the whiteboard with the heels of one of the boots she found. She sets to work writing the schedule for tomorrow on the wall after she finishes mounting the damn thing. She freezes again, at a strange noise, she turns to look at the vase. She could swear she saw it move. It’s balancing precariously on the edge of the windowsill. She rushes over, shoving it back in place. She pats it once or twice, silently begging for it to just stay. She turns around, hands on her hips, with a loud huff, and begins taking a few steps away. She hears the noise again. She spins around in time to witness it happen.

It plays in slow motion in her mind.

I bet it’s going to fall.

Oh look, it’s falling.

I better go catch it.

CRASH!

Waverly recoils her extended hand that tried to rescue it.

“Waverly!” Wynonna shouts as she rushes up the ladder.

Waverly spins around to stare at her, wide eyed like a kid with its hand caught in the cookie jar. Her face immediately splits into an awkward smile and she scratches the back of her head.

“What the fuck happened? Are you alright?” Wynonna grabs her arms to inspect her for some sort of injury.

“I’m fine. It’s just me being classic ol’ clumsy Waverly.” She grabs Wynonna’s hands off her. “Trust me, I’m fine. No pesky ghostly activity.”  
Wynonna gives her a look of disbelief.

“If you really want to help, you’d go get me the broom and dustpan downstairs.” Waverly says pointedly.

Her big sister hesitates for a moment before heading back downstairs.

“Alright, so a little haunted. That’s fine, I can deal with that. I dealt with Champ Hardy pantsing me on the playground in first grade. I can deal with a little preternatural infestation.” She stomps her foot to the ground. “You hear that, ghostie? I’ll make you bow to me.” She announces, crossing her arms.  
Yeah, she got this.

Maybe.

Probably.

She can only hope.


	2. Spells need warning labels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't do magic, kids. Leave it up to the professionals.. actually no. Screw the professionals. No one participate in spells or witchcraft ever.

Waverly sat at her lunch table flipping through the pages of one of Daddy’s paranormal texts. More specifically on ghost wrangling. Everything’s she’s read so far has told her the older the ghost the stronger it is. Waverly won’t go the next step up to eviction until it makes her, after this has been its home for the last 139 years, it would be rude to kick it out. She hopes this ghost is friendly and has retained its humanity enough to be willing to compromise, which might be a fair bit unrealistic. It’s gone without prolonged human relations for god knows how long.

“I understand what you’re saying, but flamethrower. You’ve got to be realistic. Both of you, but specifically you, Dolls. It’s destruction at a touch of a button but aimable.” Wynonna says, dropping her tray on the table across from Waverly for max noise.

“I hear you, Wynonna, but do you care to reconsider your position on dynamite?” Doc asks as he and Dolls join them at their table.

“Both of you are wrong. Those items are hard to obtain and very illegal without proper licensing. Your best bet is a shotgun.”

“You are the definition of a buzzkill. Who gets a salad from the cafeteria anyways?”

“I’m sorry that my definition of nutrition isn’t two pizzas smashed together into a ‘pizza sandwich.’ Honestly, Earp.”

“That’s a genius invention, how dare you insult it.” Wynonna says as she drops a bag of chips and chocolate milk onto Doc’s tray.

Doc wasn’t the richest kid. He couldn’t really afford a proper lunch. His mom was deceased and his father was off… somewhere mailing money back when he could find work. So, Doc cycled through the three suits he owned every day and swore he’d one day pay back the Earps for everything they’ve done for him. “What are you studying on this lovely lunch period today, Waverly? I had thought that you were the only one of us free from tests on this horrible godforsaken week.”

Waverly laughs as she flips a page. Her sister and her friends were graduating this year. Waverly had managed to skip a grade so she was only a year behind them, but nonetheless the difference still seemed very staunch.

Wynonna talks through a mouthful of pizza. “She’s been reading since we moved into the new house this week. You should see her, it is wild. She unpacks each box from the neck down, but her head never stops facing the book.”

“Earp, use all three of your manners. Swallow before you talk.” Doll says after finishing a bite of salad.

Wynonna opens her mouth even more to show the chewed up mush to him. She swallows it with a roll of her eyes at his glare. “You’re not the only guy who tells me to swallow, and I'll tell you what I tell them. Make me.”

“Why, Wynonna, why? Just ew.” Waverly says, putting her book away. “Want to help me out later?”

“Totally. Willa and Daddy are in the next town over banishing some ghosts and no one wants to come over for a party besides Doc and Dolls and I’m pretty sure one of them is a cyborg sent to lead the campaign against fun and joy and happiness.” Wynonna says with a pointed glare. “Watcha need help with?”

“Oh, you know, ghost control.” Waverly says in a small voice.

“I knew that that attic was not a safe place to sleep.”

“No, no, no, it is. Just, I think they might be a little restless. I just think we should soothe them a little. Help them take naps better. The usual nothing bad has happened.” Except her bedposts have been scratched up and the feeling of something very hot sitting on her legs come each night. Not to mention, the loud thumping on the roof at all hours and the books constantly being open at the wrong pages. Although, that last part was more than likely to be a combination of Waverly’s forgetfulness and the slight draft. 

“I am more than prepared to help you in this fine endeavor. When shall I come over?”

“Doc, she asked for professional help. Not a professional amateur.”

“I think it would be fantastic to help Waverly with her supernatural malediction.”

“Ugh, fine, but you are bringing snacks, Salad boy.”

Xavier Dolls’ father works in the same field as Ward Earp. However, his father works for Black Badge books. A publishing company whose writers publish works both fiction and non-fiction on paranormal events. His father moved here for ‘inspiration’ because of the town’s reputation for being a hotspot for freakiness. Dolls became close to the Earp family while his father was investigating about their family’s legacy in the field of fighting the supernatural or as the two sisters called it ‘That one time Daddy got so drunk that he tried to kill a man with Waverly’s scooter.’

Wynonna leans over to empty her wrappers into the bin at the end of the table. She scrutinizes Waverly for a moment. “You ate right?”

Waverly reaches into her bag and empties out the trash from her bagged lunch onto Wynonna’s tray. “I bring food from home so I can eat lunch before it’s almost over.”

“But, responsibility is just… so… boring.” Wynonna sighs. Waverly laughs and gets up, hugging her sister for a moment before going upstairs to meet Chrissy Nedley before their next class.

The rest of the day passes by as per usual. The teachers remark at how unalike her sisters she is. Champ snaps her bra in fifth and Steph coos about how into her he is. Chrissy Nedley shows her pictures of her on her new horse, a different mode of transportation then most girls would ask for their sweet sixteen. Waverly hears whispers of the latest Earp family drama of them moving out into the wild. Some of the crazy theories about how they moved out so far so they bury bodies of their victims easier make her chuckle as much as they make her feel twice as exhausted as she actually is. She finishes her work in a quarter of the time given to complete it so she can immediately go back to studying what is really important: ancient Mayan sacrificial rituals.

By the time the quartet of perpetual misery have trudged up the drive and clambered the stairs into the house, she’s pretty much ready to microwave a hot pocket and pass out on the sofa. Doc convinces her to just sit on it while he serves them all some of the cold lemonade she made the night before.

“Do we do the whole house or just the attic?” Dolls asks as Wynonna searches the hall closet for the necessary ghost taming materials.

Wynonna shakes a vial of mysterious yellow liquid and peers through it. Dolls carefully takes it away and places it on the table like it might explode.

“I figure if we focus it on one area the anti-ghost witchery will be extra stronger.” Doc adds as he takes a drink from his own glass of lemonade.

Wynonna slaps her hand over his mouth. “Shhh, you can’t let them know what we’re up to. They’ll get all ghost pissed. Then they go all Hulk.” She lowers her voice and stands likes she’s absolutely ripped and on every kind of steroid “You won’t like me when I’m angry.” She says swaying around the coffee table.

“I do not think that is how it works, Wynonna.”

“Who has two thumbs and comes from a legacy of ghost slayers?” Wynonna wiggles her thumbs at herself. “This guy.” She goes straight faced and pulls Doc’s hat over his eyes. “So, shut up and listen to me.”

Dolls’ glass of lemonade crashes to the floor from the coffee table. Waverly immediately gets up to retrieve the stuff to soak it up. Thank god they used plastic cups in the Earp household. Too many times has Ward Earp smashed his glass for them to keep glass ones around.

“You see what you did, Doc? You pissed ‘em off. That’s what you did.”

Waverly cleans up the mess in silence as Doc and Wynonna argue who knows more on ghost removal. 

“Wynonna, you are not your sister, therefore you are not inheriting the family business. I am your father’s assistant and a year older. I have seniority.”

“Both of you, be quiet, please. We’ll do it in the attic because that’s the only place I’m really concerned about and that glass didn’t fall because of ghosts it’s cause Dolls set it way too close to the edge and you two kept bumping it until it fell. So, please, let’s go upstairs.” Waverly gathers all the thing she knows she’ll need (and that she can cram into one arm) and gestures for everyone to head upstairs. Everyone gathers an armful of things and climbs the ladder.

Waverly sets up some candles and gives out direction and she gets everything in order. Wynonna sets to arranging the mixture at the center and lighting it on fire. Dolls makes sure the room is nice and dark and Doc arranges all the little things as he’s told to. “Listen, I am going to recite some stuff and hopefully we’ll be able to soothe them enough with the spell that I can then talk to them about what’s going on up here, if that doesn’t work. We’ll figure something else out tomorrow.” She says as she takes her seat on the floor and finishes drawing the last symbol in chalk in front of her. “Okay, here we go. Close your eyes. Everyone, relax. Go to your happy place.”

Wynonna grins for a moment. “Good vibes, guys. Send out those good vibes.”

“Right, okay. Let’s go. We got this. Uh-huh, we are ready.” Waverly says, checking to see if everything is perfect.

“Uh, Waves?” Wynonna opens one eye to look at her sister.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Okay.” Waverly clears her throat.  
“Spirit, we ask for you to be at peace.  
We offer no harm, just extend a hand of harmony.  
We hope you grow calm and willing to talk with us.”  
A quiet hiss begins to fill the room. Waverly shifts where she sits.  
“Spirit, we ask nothing of you then your presence and your relaxation.  
We ask that you be content and allow for us to live at ease.”

The hissing grows and grows till it’s unbearable. Waverly covers her ears.

“Wynonna!” Somebody yells. Wynonna stands up and stomps on the centerpiece over and over until its some mud and burnt flowers and smoking herbs.

“Well, that decidedly did not work.”

“Nuh-uh, that is not a friendly ghost man.” Wynonna says, she leans close to Waverly and whispers. “We gotta banish this thing like yesterday. We need Peacemaker when Daddy comes home next week. That thing guarantees for the banishing thing to work. Without it, you can’t focus intent and anything could happen. We need it.”

Waverly rocks in her spot, deep in thought. “Yeah, okay. Sure.” She stares off into space for a moment before looking at Doc who is cleaning up the best he can with his hands. “How about I pick us up some hot food and we can eat?”

Wynonna straightens up and looks at Waverly incredulously. “Curfew is in really-soon minutes and we got to send the boys home.”

“You guys have a couple beers and clean up and I’ll be back lickety split.” Waverly immediately shimmies down the ladder and runs through the house, tossing on a jacket, and climbs onto Wynonna’s motorcycle. She hastily puts on her motorcycle helmet and gets ready to go. She revs the engine and speeds off with a plan forming in her mind. She hopes the only McDonald’s in town is still open when she finishes. She takes a sharp turn left at the Sheriff’s station and head up the dirt path behind it. She drops her kickstand down when she sees that pink abomination parked on the lawn.

Constance Clootie was a fixture of the town. She could be spotted a mile off by her bottle blonde hair and whatever tacky, expensive, thing she’s decided to display that day. Not to mention, she’s horrible to everyone. She made Doc get held back a year after her sons got drunk at a party and smashed all her windows, both car and house, and blamed it on him. They got to graduate and split town while Doc failed classes because he was too tired after doing community service. Regardless of her ever-growing awfulness, one thing remained true, she was the best damned witch in the entire town. If Waverly wanted something done, now. She needed to beg it from Constance. Waverly could feel the item warming her jacket pocket. No, she wouldn’t have to beg at all. Not with this.

Waverly knocks on the door. She can hear Constance shout come in. Waverly pushes open the door and steps inside, careful to remove her shoes. Constance emerges from her kitchen, a fluffy pink bathrobe over whatever she has going on under it. The living room is dark except for the flashing images of the mute television. Constance Clootie already looks over whatever is about to happen.

“What is the littlest Earp brat doing knocking on my door at this hour?” She says conversationally as she sits down. She gestures for Waverly to sit as she crosses her legs. “You smell of a spell gone wrong. So, I have an inkling as to what you want.”

Waverly sits down and leans forward. “I need a banishing spell.” 

“Ward Earp must be out on business with everyone’s favorite charm, then. I doubt you can pay my steep price, girl.” Constance says with a snake’s smile.

The ball of nervousness yawns so loud its screaming in Waverly’s gut as she reaches for what’s in her pocket. She hands the small stack of paper over to Constance who snatches it out of her hand. The witch flips through them for a moment before Waverly makes her demands. “I have copies of those pictures at home, too. I have a lot more, in fact. All of your boys breaking the law. Public intoxication, underage drinking, public urination just from those pictures alone. So, I expect to receive your services for free. Unless you want for the magic I’m making tonight is them magically appearing on the office of every Sheriff and deputy in town.” 

Constance glares at her for a moment. She tosses the pictures onto the glass table in front of her, where they ignite and disintegrate in a few seconds. “The people of Purgatory are idiots for thinking you are the sweet one. Alright, I’ll do it. Stay here while I whip it up.” Constance says in a huff. She vanishes back into the kitchen.

Waverly nervously looks around. The bookshelves are lined with books on witchcraft and black magic. Small skulls used as book ends and candles melted down into nubs sit on every surface. There’s a text open on the desk showing which parts of the human anatomy are worth harvesting for certain spells. Waverly folds her hands it her lap, once Wynonna came home with her hair smoldering after a visit to the Clootie residence. That’s when she learned you never touch a witches things.

Constance Clootie drops a charm into lap. It’s a ring of rat tails wound together, surrounded with a small silver chain, a black raven’s wing is tied to the band on one side and a white dove’s wing on the other. Both wings are burnt at the edges. Leather string is wound together in a complex formation like a spider’s web with a gold coin at the center depicting an eye on the front and an ear on the back. “When you’re ready, put this in a circle of chalk and chant ‘Spiritus, exaudi me.’” She says tiredly. She waves a dismissive hand.

“Now, leave my house and never presume to return.”

Waverly nods and delicately puts the charm in her pocket before rushing to the motor cycle. She speeds off back home, forgetting about the promised meal in its entirety.  
Which turns out to be okay. When she gets home she finds her sister, Doc, and Dolls slumped over one another on the couch with their beer bottles empty in front of them and what looks like a half drunken bottle of whiskey and the television playing something loud and with a lot of action. Waverly grabs a quilt and throws it over them and hurries upstairs. She scales her ladder in record time and draw the best damn chalk circle she’ll ever create. She places the charm in the center and gets ready to say the spell.  
She crosses her legs and closes her eyes and prepares to say the spell. She clears her throat. “Get ready to be evicted, ooglie booglie.” She announces with as much venom and spite she can muster. She folds her hands together and takes a deep breath.

“Spiritus, exaudi me.” She says, she can hear the sound of a small wind. “Spiritus, exaudi me.” The wind begins to pick up and pressure begins to push back on her. “Spiritus, exaudi me.” It begins to sound like she’s the middle of a big maelstrom. The wind whips around, taking her hair with it. “Spiritus, exaudi me.” She says with all the force she can muster.

The wind howls and its feels like someone is holding her skull and squeezing. She clears her throat and tries one last time.

“Spiritus, exaudi me!” She shouts so hard it hurts her throat. The wind immediately stops and the pressure go away. Waverly cracks open one eye and then the other. She relaxes and takes a breath, relaxing her body that had grown tense. She lets out a happy sigh and surveys the room for a second.

Now spectre fr-

WHAM!

A force like a battering ram smashed her into the bed frame behind her. Light flood the room like the lighting team for a theatre crew decided to go absolutely wild with all they’ve got. Waverly squeezes her eyes shut and curls into herself until she hears it, heavy breathing (that isn’t her own) and long nails on the wood around her. Long hot hair grazes her legs. Great, she’s summoned a demon into this reality and it’s probably going to kill her and everyone in this house and she didn’t even have the dignity to get them a pizza. 

Waverly Earp decides then and there that she is an awful person.

She opens her eyes and prepares to face her fate.

It’s not a demon.

It’s not even someone ugly.

It’s a girl corralling cats. A tall redheaded girl, in fact, who counts the cats filling the room quietly, pulling a few close to her chest with worry in her eyes.

Wynonna is right. There are more ghosts in here then she can count on her fingers

And it’s a fuckton of cats.

“Oh my god, that’s a lot of cats.” The astonished statement leaks out of Waverly before she can stop it.

The redhead laughs, smiling down at the cats before freezing. “She can see the cats.” The girl says to herself. She looks Waverly in the eyes. “She can see the cats.” She says again with a lot more weight. Waverly looks the surprisingly calm redhead back in the eyes. “She can see me.” The girl whispers.

“Oh, yeah. Why are you in my room?” Waverly says, rising to her feet. It makes the redhead straighten up. She’s as tall as the tallest part of the room. That explains the banging at night…. Gross, rephrase that better next time.

“I’ve always been here, well, I mean. I can be on other parts of the property, but this was my room before it was your room.” The tall redhead says, straightening the hat on her head, the medal of sheriff emblazoned on the front. “I’ve forgotten my manners, I’m Nicole Haught.” She holds a hand to Waverly, who almost takes it, before Nicole snaps it back. “I’m sorry, I forgot I’m a ghost as well apparently. Silly me, we can’t shake hands, but if I could we would.”

“I am-“

“-Waverly Earp. You’re pretty interesting. I’ve been reading the novels you leave out when you’re away. It takes a lot of energy to flip a page when you’re, you know, not solid. Sorry, I never flip them back.” She pauses for a moment. “You sure do write a lot in your books.”

“Your cats seem to have enough energy to knock my things over and scratch up my bed.”

“Yet again, sorry. Different ghost laws apply to cats I suppose. I try to stop them, but on the plus side, they like to sleep at your feet at night.”

Waverly sits down on her bed, taking it all in. She lets out a sigh of disbelief before remembering where Daddy always tells her to begin with ghosts if they’re friendly.

“So, why are you here, Nicole Haught.”

Nicole smiles brightly. “Someone has to take care of the cats, right? I stayed back so I could do that as long as possible, which might end up being forever.” 

This was going to be a whole lotta… something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters within the span of twenty four hours. Pacing yourself is for scrubs. I'd like to thank my tumblr dashboard and my lack of friends for both my inspiration and my lack of editing. Muchos gracias, everybody, for entertaining my own personal shitshow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's about to get fluffy y'all. Enjoy the fluff! Embrace the fluff! because like ice, it won't last forever. (no ghost cats were harmed in the making of this chapter)

“Wynonna! I’m home!” Waverly shouts into the house, nearly falling over as she tries to remove her shoes. She had stayed back at school a little longer to talk over with one of her teachers about a grade on a project.

Nicole appears to her left, leaning on the wall with a straight face and a cat on her shoulders. She smiles a little at Waverly jumping in surprise before she begins talking. “Wynonna came in earlier, shouted something about finding ‘that damn feather’ to exorcise a demon is someone’s showerhead, and left.”

“So, no Wynonna?”

“No Wynonna.” Nicole confirms as she poofs out of existence and reappears climbing up the stairs with Waverly just watching. A ghost cat mewls loudly and brushes against Waverly’s legs. She pets it, eyes still on Nicole. She trails after her redheaded friend, tugging on the strap of her shoulder bag.

It had been all of two days since Waverly met Nicole and she could make a grocery list with what she knows. Actually, she did, just in case. She knows that Nicole is almost as old as the house itself. She knows Nicole died sometime during her sixteenth year. She knows the cat on her shoulder’s name is Fizz after the sound pop bottles made when she used to crack their caps off. She knows that she wanted to be a sheriff when she grew up, which was pretty much impossible back then and because of the aforementioned fact she also knew that Nicole frequently went around as a guy when she was alive.

The most she’s said on that fact is “The height helped.” It wasn’t like they didn’t talk or Waverly wasn’t curious, it was just that Nicole always seemed to be much more vocally fascinated with Waverly. She could sometimes hear her new ghostly pal talking to the cats late at night using words she recently learnt from Waverly earlier that day. Yesterday, she found Nicole sitting on her bed trying to flip the pages of one of her novel’s with one of the cat’s paws. Waverly put on Lion King instead. 

“Nicole?” Waverly asks, climbing up the ladder.

Nicole tips her hat in acknowledgement from the bed.

“I had an idea on how to introduce you to the current world without taking you there and I came up with this.” She opens her bag and places its contents on the bed. One single laptop, in gleaming condition. Waverly opens it and turns it on. Nicole leans close to the bright light. Fizz reaches from her shoulders to try to bat at the moving fish on the screensaver.

“Nifty.” She whispers in awe, captivated for a moment. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the littlest Earp. “Actually, I thought that today would be my turn to show you something since you entertained me all of yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“I am going to give you a formal, one of a kind, house tour.” Nicole straightens up and tugs on her collar. “Come with me, Miss Earp.” She heads towards the hatch in the floor, scooping up a cat along the way. She jumps down the hatch and looks up expectantly at Waverly, who begins to climb down. Cats begin to circle the ladder simply because Nicole is near.

“Let me just, uh, take a moment.” Waverly really doesn’t want to step on one of the treasured felines.

“Okay, I can wait.”

Waverly laughs nervously. “What, no ‘buck up, Waverly?’ No ‘don’t be such a baby?’ Not even a single ‘come on, hurry up, go faster?’”

“Go ahead, take your time. I’ve got forever and it’s just a ladder.”

Waverly is smiling ear to ear by the time she reaches the bottom. Nicole smiles back. “That is the perfect mood for a house tour.” She passes Waverly the cat in her arms. “Don’t drop him, Mr. Butters doesn’t like that.” She covers the cat’s ears and leans close to Waverly and drops her voice to a sincere whisper. “I’m pretty sure that’s how he died. It’s a sensitive topic.”

Mr. Butters is a small, vaguely transparent, white kitten. He looks at Waverly with wide eyes like she’s his entire world. Wynonna is right, for once, responsibility does suck.  
Nicole walks a few paces ahead of Waverly, careful not to do her normal ‘disappear and reappear somewhere else’ trick. Waverly studies Nicole carefully. Nicole’s neatly braided hair stays in place under her hat, it’s very bright for something that is see through. Nicole keeps her hands on her belt and her shoulders squared as she strolls along, occasionally looking over her shoulder at Waverly. Nicole leads Waverly to the barn. She turns around and walks backwards through the barn doors. Waverly waits for a moment for something to happen before remembering that Nicole probably can’t open the doors. She pulls the doors with one hand, careful to not drop the treasured kitten.   
Nicole is waiting patiently on the other side. She reaches out a hand to take Waverly’s before yanking it back. She forgot about her own lack of solidness too, apparently. Nicole puts a finger to her lips instead and gestures for Waverly to follow her instead. She leads Waverly to a small sunny patch in the corner of the barn. A large grey and white cat lays fluffed out in the sun.

Nicole nods and removes her hat. She presses it against her hat. A picture of seriousness in the dim light. “Before we can begin the house tour. We must pay homage to the matron of the house. This is Squirm.” She gestures to the sunbathing feline.

Waverly fights not to crack a smile. “Why the name Squirm?”

Nicole puts her hat back on, still serious. “I hear a man say it a decade back and I found it to be a lot of fun to say. She was the first cat I could think of without a name.”

“What are we doing with Squirm, then?”

“We are giving her a sacrifice.” Nicole says, nodding gravely.

“You mean, Mr. Butters?”

“Yes, we shall sacrifice him to appease her, lest we incur her rage.” Nicole gestures for Waverly to hand over the cat. She falters for a second, but ultimately hands it over.  
Nicole lifts Mr. Butters up, Simba style, she presents him to each cardinal direction before kneeling before the fat cat, who has only just acknowledged their presence. “Your sacrifice is appreciated. Your courage shall be sung about, Mr. Butters. We will remember you as a hero.” She places the kitten on the ground and pushes him towards Squirm. The old cat blinks slowly before slamming a paw down on the kitten and beginning to lick him furiously. “So brave.” Nicole whispers.

“Very brave.” Waverly says into her hand, covering her smile. Nicole begins walking away from the corner. “Why did we do that?”

“Mr. Butters is one of her kittens. She felt lonely, I think. No one should feel lonely.” She answers distractedly before pointing up. “I hit my head on that beam one of the first times I rode a horse, knocked me clean off of him.” She points over to a corner. “We used to have a shelf there where all the guns would go. One time, a man broke in and took one. He stormed into the house all in a rage, shouting ‘bout how we hung his father and how he was going to get revenge. He made the sheriff kneel right outside the barn as he went on and on about ‘just rewards’ and ‘due punishment’ He didn’t know I was home, you see. I smacked him right over the head with a shovel and shoved him into a barrel, because he was deadweight, you see? We closed the lid and rolled him into town and rolled him straight in the gaol.” 

“Was he fine?”

“No, I think he was a murderer, it didn’t matter if he was pretty or not.” Nicole says, brows knit. Waverly must’ve looked a little concerned because before long Nicole cracks a smile. “He wasn’t dead, I don’t think. That wasn’t the point of the story.” Nicole walks over to one of the beams and runs her thumb over a chip in the beam. “When I knocked him out he fired. He just missed the sheriff’s head and the bullet flew right into this beam. Cool, huh?”

Waverly had to admit. It was a bit cool. A piece of history from at least 140 years in the past right in front of her very eyes? As a history buff, she had to admit that it was a bit cool. 

By the time Waverly’s moved her eyes off of the beam, Nicole was already walking through the barn’s open door. She takes her hat off and scoops up the cats playing in the grass and puts them inside. “I don’t like it when they’re outside too much. I prefer that they stay in one structure or the other and move lickity split between them.” Nicole informs her. “Back inside now. It’s almost your supper time. We can resume the tour after you’ve eaten. It’s important to eat.” Nicole says, leading them both back inside.

Nicole sits on the counter as Waverly begins cooking. She plays with the cat in her lap as Waverly works. “What are you making?”

Waverly looks up from the glass bowl of meat next to her. “Spaghetti and meatballs. It’ll be easy for Wynonna to reheat when she gets back. Demons tend to take her awhile.”

“Cool.” Another period of silence follows as Waverly builds up the nerve to ask the questions she desperately wants to ask.

“So, who lived here with you?”

“Pardon?”

“If you were sixteen when you died here and you obviously lived here a long time before hand. You must’ve lived with someone, but you’ve never mentioned any parents or siblings.” 

“I lived here with one Sheriff Nedley.”

“Nedley?” Waverly asks. Nicole nods. “I know a girl with that last name.”

“He had an older daughter who was married off by the time I moved in.”

“Why not your parents?”

“Mr. Haught was not a good man and Mrs. Haught died during childbirth. Mr. Haught took a turn down the wrong path. I think he grew up with Nedley. One day, he got caught. I was about four? I have a hard time remembering sometimes. The law back then was a death sentence for what he did. He asked Sheriff Nedley that I wouldn’t suffer on his behalf. Nedley was a good man and took me in. He was never a father, but he raised me good and well. To the best of his abilities, even let me run around as a boy when I said I wanted to be his deputy. He had kept me hidden on the ranch because every criminal hates the sheriff and my hair is pretty distinctive. He was a good man, could’ve been better, but I think he did well.”

Waverly’s fingers itched to write it down as she rolled the last meatball. “He didn’t stay back?”

“Didn’t die on the property. Doubt he would’ve anyways. The man was good at being content.”

“You weren’t?”

“The cats, Waverly, the cats.” Nicole says, waving a cat in her face.

Waverly has a lot of questions left. They burnt her throat like bile. ‘How did you die?’ ‘What did death feel like?’ ‘Why are you stuck wearing that outfit for life?’ ‘What have you seen over the years?’ ‘How are you?’ Waverly swallows each and every one. That’s enough for today, so she makes a joke instead. “You were afraid they were going to start the very first kitty gang and take over the world.”

“What? No, I wasn’t. I mean, now I am, but I wasn’t before.” She looks a kitten in the eyes. “You don’t think that could happen, Waverly?”

“They’re dead. The most they can do these day is claw up my bed posts and make my legs a little too warm at night.”

“Sorry about that. The attic is just better for them and it’s been awhile since something alive has been up there.”

“I think I should charge them rent.” Waverly says, turning away from Nicole so the taller girl can’t see the grin on her face.

“That’s just mean, Waverly.” Nicole sounds surprised at such a sudden act of ‘cruelty.’

“I’m going to ban all meowing from the hours of eleven at night until eight in the morning.” Waverly continues, turning around. 

“Waverly, that isn’t funny.” Nicole says as she begins to clue into the joke.

“I could put them to work. They could clean my room when I’m gone. One punctual cat could be my alarm clock.” Waverly teases as she puts the pasta into the boiling water.

“Waverly, I’m pretty sure this is bullying. I’ve only heard about it once in an ad on your television, but I am fairly sure this is first class bullying.” Nicole’s smiling with her now.

“It’s like what your barrel man said ‘just rewards.’”

“I will haunt you.”

“How would you haunt me?”

“I’d make a farting noise happen every time you sit down.”

“I concur then.”

“The cats thank you.” Nicole says followed by a pleasant lull in the conversation.

“How many cats are there anyways?” Waverly asks, stirring the pasta with a wooden spoon.

“I’m not that good at counting. I give up after twelve on a good day.”

They both pause for a moment before cracking up.

“Officer Haught, I really enjoy your company. There isn’t any other ghost I’d rather be charmed into seeing.”

“Aren’t you sweet?”

Waverly rests the wooden spoon on the counter next to her. She must’ve placed it wrong because she can hear it clatter to the floor as she strains the pasta.

“I got it, continue pouring.” Nicole says, getting off of the counter. She places her cat onto the floor as she crouches next to spoon. Her brows stick together and her tongue peeks out of her mouth as she tries to grab the spoon. Her fingers go through the first time, and the second, and on the third try. Waverly worries she’s going to give up and gets ready to pick it up. On the fourth try, however, Nicole has the spoon in her grasp, her knuckles white from how much strain she’s putting into just holding it. “Here you go, ma’am.”  
Waverly laughs a little as she takes it back. “Thank you very much, Officer Haught.” She washes off the spoon before using it to stir in the canned sauce.

“You can shout about my greatness from the rooftops after you finish cooking and eating.”

“I will be sure to pen that in somewhere.”

“Waves, who are you talking to?” Wynonna asks as she drops her jacket and schoolbag down. Wynonna looks around. “Champ isn’t hiding somewhere around here, is he?”

Waverly looks around. Nicole is gone from sight, not even a cat left behind. “I was talking to nobody, Wynonna. Sit down, dinner is almost ready.”

“I don’t know, Waves. Officer Hot is a very kinky name. It’s cool, have your fantasies in our kitchen, just don’t burn anything.” Wynonna says as she grabs bowls and forks. She puts the forks onto the table and gives Waverly one of the bowls before serving herself. 

“It wasn’t anyth- how was your day, Wynonna?” Waverly asks as she takes a deep breath through her nose.

“Waverly, let me tell you about the day I’ve had.” Wynonna says as she dramatically throws herself into a chair. “I arrive home early because I skipped last period. Dolls and I head here and the phone rings the second I step through the door. I pick it up and it’s Lyle Blakely and he tells me that his shower rains acid blood. I know right? Acid blood.” Wynonna quickly eats another mouthful and takes a deep breath before continuing

“Obviously, Dolls and I head over, because we are kind-hearted, outstanding members of society who would never want to miss out on a sight like acid blood. The demons tells us that we have to pay it the soul of the person we love the most if we want it to leave. Which would never work, because Dolls is a cyborg who has yet to learn how to love and you were still at school. Then, I have an idea, which really hurt. I came back here as quickly as possible and raided the closet for that one feather? With that one spell on it? And also baking soda. By the way, we are out of baking soda. Then I head back and cover the acid demon in baking soda and it screams so I put the feather in its mouth and then it dissolves into this goo pile. So, me and Dolls put the demon in several different jars and bury it around the Blakely yard and by the time Mrs. Blakely comes home we are out of there. I think Lyle Blakely is in a cult and that’s how he tracked the demon home. We should keep our eyes on him.” Wynonna eats a mouthful of pasta. “This is good.”

“I’m sad I missed it.”

“It’s fine, you were making pasta and having sexual fantasies.”

“Wynonna.”

“Willa and Daddy are going to be home sooner than originally planned. The large infestation was actually only mild, so we could get that angry spirit out of your room in time for Saturday morning cartoons.”

Waverly freezes “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, Peacemaker will be home by Friday. We’ll get it out that day if we can.”

Waverly feigns casualty. “I dealt with it.”

“How?”

“I went to Constance Clootie-“

“-Waverly-“ Wynonna says in her warning voice.

“-and I got her to give me a charm to help get rid of it and then I got it out, that’s what I did.”

“What did you give that witch bitch?”

“Nothing important.”

“Oh my god, she’s going to take your firstborn.”

“Wynonna, that only happens in fairy tales.” Waverly corrects.

“Yeah, and I thought being that ugly only happened in fiction too, but there she is.” The older Earp continues on.

“I blackmailed her!” Waverly shouts over Wynonna.

“You blackmailed… a witch?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Waverly responds in a strained voice

“She’s going to turn us all into soup.” Wynonna slams her face into the wooden dining table. “Tell school I’m calling out sick, I’ve got to enjoy my last days on earth.”

“It’s fine, it all worked out. Nothing bad happened.”

“Not now, yeah, but eventually. Watch your tail, babygirl, cause that old crone is coming for it. We’ll fight her together when she pounces.”

Waverly opens her mouth to respond, but she’s distracted by the loud mewling coming from her left. She looks at the kitten brushing up against her chair leg. She looks back at Wynonna, who’s distractedly pacing, then back at the kitten. 

Nicole appears, smiling up at her. She grabs the kitten and tips her hat as she tucks it under her arm before disappearing.

“I think we should have Doc make those explosive we talked about the other day.”

“Sure, Wynonna.” Waverly says, smiling at Nicole who has reappeared on the steps. “Whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my brand spanking new editor who I met in the comment section: http://sensitive-pigeon.tumblr.com/  
> Also me! Go me! I live at http://unicornsarehaught.tumblr.com/ if you want to tell me to write other stuff. I wanna do it for you, so send it to me.


	4. Threats are best made in the library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly channels her inner research god only to receive some awful news. Nicole can't pick flowers and Waverly is most definitely not in love with Champ Hardy.

We’re home.” Willa shouts as the door slams shut behind her.

Waverly looks up from their snazzy, in Nicole’s words, operation on her bed. With Waverly doing her homework in her lap and a book a little bit in front of her, upside down, so Nicole could read it at the foot of the bed. Every once in awhile, Nicole would ‘clear her throat’ and Waverly would ‘just happen to turn the page.’ Nicole straightens up with Waverly, turning towards the hatch in the floor like Willa is about to pop through it. 

“Act casual, okay? Just be calm. Pretend nothing is going on. Everything is cool. Everything is great.” Waverly smooths out her shorts, nervously.

“I’m not sure about you, Waverly, because you seem to be breathing a lot, but I feel just dandy. Also, I think I’m less of a concern, because she can’t see me, you know?” Nicole reminds her.

“Right...right!” 

“I have a solid question, that clock of yours is telling me it’s about half past seven in the morning. I don’t think that’s a healthy time to come home at.”

“This is the Earp household. Sleep is an ideology we don’t subscribe to. Booze, however...” Waverly trails off. Ward Earp was probably passed out on the couch mid-way through his fourth beer.

“You should be getting to school soon.” Nicole climbs up off the bed. “I’d help you up off the bed if I could.”

“I appreciate the thought.” Waverly says as she gathers her things. “Listen, I’m going to be home later than usual. Don’t wait up.” She pulls the shoulderbag on.

“I’ll do one of the million other activites left available.” Nicole steps backwards to clear the way for Waverly.

“Okay, have fun not doing me. I mean, doing them. Wow, would you just look at the time?” Waverly readies to lift the hatch and drop the ladder down. “Have a good day, Officer Haught.” Waverly scurries down the ladder as fast as possible, ears red from the accidental phrasing. Stupid english.

“I hope your day is just swell, Waverly Earp.” Of course, Nicole wouldn’t get it. Thank God.

Nicole makes Waverly, for lack of a better term, nervous. Nicole exists in the world with such ease and confidence. She doesn’t seem to question every detail, but instead embraces things as they come. Something just happens and Nicole inhales and notices it and exhales and accepts it as a part of her world. It’s entirely unfamiliar to Waverly. It’s not like Wynonna’s brazenness when she ignores the rules entirely and does what she believes is best. It isn’t even close to Willa’s “I’m in control” attitude. Waverly’s always been slightly nervous, because the world is just so much. It’s hard to for Waverly to comprehend why you wouldn’t constantly be questioning everything, because that’s the way she's always has been. Maybe Nicole would rub off on her. Nope, nope, nope. Wrong phrasing again.

Waverly falters for a moment before smiling and heading down the steps. She quickly climbs down the stairs to see Willa and Wynonna laughing in the kitchen over some ghost story.

“Wynonna. We have to go.” Waverly says lifting Wynonna’s singular notebook and pencil up off of the counter.

“But, Willa.” Wynonna protests, mouth full of poptart.

“You are graduating, so help me god.”

Wynonna perks up and turns, grinning to Willa. “This one here has been sexting Champ Hardy. She calls him Officer Hot. I told you, Waverly is wilder than the rest of us combined.”

“Oh, really?” Willa says with a lifted brow. “I don’t suppose she’s been sleeping at his house instead of the attic.”

“Thanks for speculating on my sex life, let’s go.” Waverly pulls on Wynonna’s arm.

“She’s been in the attic every night. I think she’s lightly possessed.” It’s like Waverly is the ghost.

“Fascinating.” Willa adds dryly.

Waverly pulls again. “As much fun as it would be for you to stay home and help Willa clean up after Daddy’s next drunken mess. You need to graduate. So, come on.”  
Wynonna shrugs. “You just want to get to school to see Champ sooner.”

Waverly grabs the smiling Wynonna by her shoulders and pulls herself up to her older sister’s ear. “If we’re late. I am not buying you anymore alcohol for a month.” Waverly whispers.

Waverly has seen the girl shotgun a beer slower than she left the house. Waverly turns to Willa. “Be seeing ya.”

“Wait.” Waverly freezes before she can even leave the kitchen. “Are you really getting along up there?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing up there. Not even rats.” Waverly says as evenly as possible.

“Unusual.” Willa comments, looking up like she might find rodents scurrying across the ceiling. Waverly waits for her to continue for a brief second before seizing the opportunity to get out of there. 

She finds Wynonna waiting for her, leaning against one of the posts on the deck. She pushes off and begins walking down the driveway to meet the bus. 

“I didn’t tell her about your deal with the wicked witch of the pain in my ass.”

“Thanks, much appreciated.”

Wynonna nods, mostly to herself. “There’s something going on up there, I can tell. It’s not like we’ve ever spent our every moment together, but you spend your every moment up there. You only seem to leave for the bare necessities these days.”

“It’s all my teenage angst. It’s all happening to me, all at once.” Waverly retorts with false sincerity.

Wynonna narrows her eyes. “Don’t tell me, then.”

“Listen, Wynonna. I’m going to go do some studying at the library after school. Remember to feed yourself.”

Wynonna’s look shifts from ridicule to confusion. “Why? You have like an A in everything. Can’t you just flip school off at this point and not show up?”

“That’s not how that works?”

“Really, huh. Should’ve discovered that sooner. Would’ve changed my whole angle of attack for this whole high school gig.” Wynonna makes a couple slicing motions like she’s wielding a katana.

“I’m sure.” They wait at their bus stop in silence until it arrives.

Wynonna gets on the bus first. “I hope everything turns out alright for ya, Waves.” Waverly has no response for that, so she falls back on habits and just smiles.

Waverly gets prepared to lightly interrogate Chrissy on her family’s past for lunch even though Wynonna and her boys are, as Wynonna put it, “Off to see if they can capture the demon in the sports shed like a Pokemon.”

Waverly sits patiently outside where Chrissy normally sits at while studying during lunch. She smiles when Chrissy looks up and sees her as she walks over.

“Long time, no see, Waverly.” Chrissy says warmly, putting down her tray.

“Normally I’m busy at lunch wrangling my sister and her friends, but here I am.”

“That’s great. If you’re here, do you mind helping me understand this question for science.”

“Sure! Yeah, whatever you want. I just need you to help me first.” Waverly says as she pulls out a notepad and pen from her bag.

“Me, helping Waverly Earp with her homework? What a peculiar day.” Waverly panics, does Chrissy not believe her? Her worries are soothed when Chrissy smiles at her. “Sure, I’ll help.”

“I’m looking at the really old families of Purgatory for sociology-”

“-We have sociology?-”

“-and your name came up. Well, your last name. So, can I grill you?”

“I never paid much attention during my grandma’s speeches.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. Let’s just start with what you know.”

“I think we were sheriffs a couple generations back. I think for a while we weren’t called Nedley’s until a son took the last name on to honor some dead guy.”

“Great, fantastic.” Waverly says making notes next to her notes on Nicole. “What do you know about the house I’m living in?”

“You’re living in it?”

Waverly scoots closer to Chrissy. “I found some old files and it said a long while back, your family lived there.”

“We did?”

“Let’s go in a new direction.” Waverly says flipping to a different page. “What do you know about the death of any of your ancestors.”

“We have this one cool story about a sheriff.”

“Perfect!” 

“We had this one sheriff a long while back. A Nedley and he lived out on the edge of town, One time, he did something the townspeople did not like and they got like really mad. He told them to chill and whatever happened was cool and they were still like not having it. A bunch of guys with a grudge against Nedley banded together, criminals probably. They went to ransack his house and wreck his things, but he got like really mad and came out, guns ablazing. Just.” Chrissy makes some gun sound effects.

“And he fended them off?”

“Nah.” Chrissy shakes her head. “He totally got shot and died as he was chasing them back into town. Once he was dead, they just headed back and destroyed it just for the hell of it.”

“Oh.” Waverly’s pen comes to a dead stop on the page. She taps it, once or twice. Waverly brightens up. “Thanks for the help!” She says as she gets up.

“What about my science question?”

“Bell’s gonna ring. No time. I’ll look at it later. I have to get to class early, eager beaver.” Waverly says as she hurries away.

The bell blares.

“Damn, that’s cool.” Chrissy says in awe.

After dealing with a truly awful last period where Waverly spent the entire time itching to correct the teacher, she’s free to finally trudge over to the library. The sacred halls of literature and knowledge containing Purgatory’s soiled and tragically limited reading selection. Waverly heads for the town’s records at the back, something the librarian have long since become used to. If she can find one link to Nicole Haught she might be able to figure out everything else. She grabs all of the oldest records she can find and braces to get ready to read the practically illegible writing. Waverly drops the stack of files onto a table with a muted thud and takes a seat. It would’ve been a simply fantastic idea if she asked Nicole her birth-death dates. That isn’t rude, is it? Chrissy gave her some important information. If some sort of big shoot out happened, especially with a sheriff, there has to be some record of that kind of deal somewhere. Waverly combs through the records. A newspaper, a death certificate, anything. Waverly just wants a direction to look in.

“Continuing humanity’s venture for knowledge?” Constance Clootie asks in a wicked croon.

“Just doing a report for class.” Waverly says keeping her eyes on the pages in front of her.

“I appreciate the lie, but honestly this place already stinks.” Constance slaps her hand down on the files. Waverly jumps. “Why add your bullshit?”

“Wow, that play on words was just great. I really enjoyed that. Thanks for reminding me about the stuffy atmosphere. I should go read outside in nature. There’s a lot of nature around my house. How about I go there?” Waverly begins to get up. Constance steps in her pathway. Waverly nods to herself and sits back down. “Why leave when I can enjoy the aura of intellect just radiating off the pages?” Waverly gently pats the pages in front of her.

“You’re not dead.”

“Gee, I hope not. That would be really inconvenient.”

“The charm I gave you should have actualized the demon in your house.”

“Oh boy, well, it didn’t. I hate to break it to ya. It did, however, give me the pleasant ability to see the ghosts in my house and that has been just a blast.”

Constance nods to herself and picks up a document. She reads the date and nods to herself. “Now, you’re reading up on the ghosts to understand how to get rid of them better.” It was a question as much as it was a statement.

“Ah, yes. Well, you know how us Earp’s feel about those rapscallion undead. We just got to get rid of them all.” Waverly answers tersely.

“Lying again. So, you like your ghosts?”

Waverly panics internally. The lady can tell when she’s lying and she’d be pissed about a non-answer. “Yes, I do.”

“I suppose you Earp girls have never had a pet before. It makes sense, really.”

“Yeppers.” Waverly nods. Where is Constance going with this?

“I am going to make it feel agony. I am going to dangle it over the gaping maw of hell and watch it trying to extinguish the hellfires with its tears, then, and only then, I will obliterate its soul into nothingness.”

So, that’s where she’s going with this.

“Oh. That’s not very nice.” Waverly says softly to a document.

“That’s what you get for threatening my sons.” The witch spits out. “No one, and I mean, no one, can threaten my sons and get away with it. I don’t care who you family is. I will turn your bones to ash.” The witch seethes.

Something in her tone makes something just click in Waverly. Waverly puts the documents in a neat pile and leaves them on the table and begins leaving the library.

“Where are you going?” Constance snaps.

“To find a good place to tell Wynonna to spread my ash bones.” Waverly answers over her shoulder. She hates it when her sister’s right.

She gets out her phone and pauses. Who can she dial for a ride home? Willa would never. Wynonna would figure out what happened and try to kill the witch with a keyboard. Chrissy is out in the middle of nowhere on a horse...which leaves Champ.

“Sup? Who is this?” 

Waverly takes a deep breath. “Hi, Champ. It’s Waverly.”

“I always knew that you’d call me up for this sweet man candy someday. I saw the way you were eyeballing me at lunch. Not necessarily ready for a date, right now. I could be though, if you say those magic words.”

“Could you give me a ride home?” Waverly tensely bounces on her feet.

“I got you, baby cakes. I’ll be right over. We can schedule our date for a better day on the ride over.”

And that’s how Waverly got trapped in Champ’s pickup, nodding absently as he talks about date ideas and mostly himself. Waverly has to come up with two plans. The first one to stop Constance, either through appeasement or good ol’ fashioned destruction. Option number two is to protect Nicole using some sort of witchcraft and wizardry. Her family is used to getting rid of ghosts. To figure out how to the opposite? That’s going to be quite the deal.

“We could totally skip the date and go straight to the killer sex.” Champ finally interrupts her thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Champ winks with a smug grin like he’s very existence was a blessing from God. He’s like a small blonde Gaston.

“I think this is my stop.” Waverly says, pushing the door open as Champ comes to a rolling stop at the foot of her long driveway.

“Call you later, sexy lady.” Champ calls out as he drives away.

Waverly stalks up the driveway, eyes trained on the ground as she tries to wrack her brain for all her ghost knowledge. She looks up to see Nicole heading back into the house from halfway down the driveway. Waverly jogs to catch up. “Nicole?”

“I was going to greet you and show you something. I didn’t know you were going to have company.” Nicole puts her hands on her belt and rolls her shoulders.

Waverly relaxes at the ghost’s presence. “Yeah, the worst company in the world.”

“You got time then for little ol’ me?” Nicole says, hamming up a western accent and placing a hand on her heart.

Waverly genuinely smiles. “Lead the way, Officer Haught.” Nicole stands next to Waverly and begins walking, keeping pace with her small companion.

“I was wandering the property, as one does. Me and Fizz,” She pats the cat on her shoulders. “We were looking for birds or rodents or something and we found this instead. I thought you’d like to see it, and since I can’t pick the flowers, I figure I bring you to the flowers instead, because I think you deserve flowers, because you’re swell.”

“The epitome of class, huh?” Waverly says as they head into the backyard. “Nicole, how far can you go?”

“I got from where I was waiting for you on the driveway to thirty paces past the well in the backyard,” Nicole takes a hand off her belt to point. “Step carefully, okay? Flowers are just like cats, they don’t like being stepped on.” They continue to walk deep into the backyard before Nicole sticks a hand out in front Waverly. “Crouch, very carefully. Keep your feet where they are.”

Small buds of pink poke up from the damp grass. Waverly sticks a hand up to touch their soft petals. Nicole crouches next to Waverly. “Rosemary.” She says quietly, watching Waverly touch the light pink flower. “You know, I always would’ve liked to have learned that whole flower language thing. I could never remember them all. The flowers are pretty regardless of what some ancient old people said they mean.”

“You’re ancient old people.” Waverly reminds her.

“Yeah, but I’m snazzy. It doesn’t apply.”

Waverly looks up to the well a yard or two ahead of them. “I’ve never been to the well, before.” Waverly says getting up. She carefully steps over the flowers and takes a couple steps towards the well. She looks at Nicole who has moved forward an inch. “You coming?”

“Nope, the cats don’t like the well. I trust the cats’ opinion. That well isn’t any good, Waverly.”

“Why don’t the cats like the well?” Waverly takes a couple more steps.

“Probably because that’s where the kittens would get drowned when Nedley thought there was too many cats.” Nicole says in a resigned tone.

Waverly stops and turns around. “Alright then, sounds good to me. Let’s go in.” She heads back.

Nicole takes off her hat and does a low sweeping bow. “Of course m’lady.”

“I thought you were too snazzy to be ancient old people.”

“I am, but manners extend beyond the reach of time.”

Wynonna hoots and hollers the second Waverly steps through the door. “Look at my girl, Waverly! She’s getting some. I mean, it’s Champ Hardy, so it’s low quality some. Look at you!” Wynonna swings and arm over Waverly’s shoulders and pulls her close. “My baby girl has finally found a mistress for her books. She’s a smitten kitten, going off into the backyard to look at flowers. Champ’s a weird thing to float your boat, but congrats on it floating.”

“I don’t have anything going on with Champ.”

 

Wynonna pats her sarcastically, nodding deeply. “Sure, Waves. You didn’t join us at lunch to be with him, didn’t you? Although saying you’re gonna be late after school is a bit of a stretch. It is Champ, no matter how pink the love goggles.”

“I’m surprised her pants aren’t too tight to get off.” Willa adds from the kitchen table.

“Willa, you shouldn’t critique her wardrobe. I think she looks cute.” Wynonna frowns for a moment “Oh wait, you’re calling her uptight, aren’t you?” Wynonna looks proud for a moment before frowning. “That’s not okay, no matter how clever it’s inferred. Waves is in love and you shall not rain on that parade.”

“I’m not in love.” Waverly protests from under Wynonna’s arm.

“Yeah, you are.”

“No? Let’s run through the checklist.” Wynonna clears her throat and adjusts her nonexistent glasses. “Do they occupy your thoughts most of the time?”

No, Waverly hasn’t had much time to think about anyone who isn’t Nicole since they met.

“Do you want to spend lots of time with them?”

Nicole is much more fascinating. The way she thinks is just as cool as her history. Champ is so boring. He talks like a broken record about himself.

“When you’re around them, do they make you instantly happy?”

Champ makes her nauseous compared to Nicole.

“Last, but not least. Could you stand if anything bad happened to them.”

Champ could get break his leg at his next rodeo for all Waverly cares. Nicole is in danger, she’s much more important at the moment.

No, Waverly Earp was most definitely not into Champ Hardy. How could she ever be with someone who pales in comparison to Nicole Haught? Waverly’s thoughts come to a screeching halt.

“Wynonna?”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I think I’m in love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my bra, who support me and makes me look good: sensitive-pigeon.tumblr.com/  
> Shout out to my cat who follows me, meowing for food, as I do my paper route. Tell me how much you hate me like my cat at: unicornsarehaught.tumblr.com/


	5. Sapphic Ghosts: a study by Wynonna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowbar fun with the gang, hopefully everyone has their tetanus shots. Don't do drugs and Wynonna is actually really observant.

Tap, tap, tap. Over and over, the same nervous beat. Waverly clicked and tapped and wrote notes on every page, every paragraph. It felt like she was trying to carve a solution out of marble with a lock of hair, time passed and nothing changed. Waverly still sat between her rock and hard place and she had no cushion to make it easier to lean one way or another. She could tell Nicole about Constance and risk Nicole being freaked out and even worse, mad at her, or she could hide this despite the fact that Nicole might hold valuable information for a solution.

Waverly slumps into the tome. “I’m doomed. Just, doomed.” She feels a cat jump into her lap and for the first time, its presence is agitating her. She shifts her sitting position on the bed but the cat won’t move. A frustrated yell gnaws at Waverly’s chest. There is just too much happening. Waverly grabs the pillow behind her and puts it down on her lap, over the cat.

The cat just...phased through it. It stares at her, mildly upset that it’s partially inside a pillow.

“Didn’t Nicole ever teach you not to stare?”

“Aww, is this little guy bothering you?” Nicole phases up through the floor. She plucks the cat up off of Waverly. “I apologize on his behalf, I haven’t been able to teach them English.” She holds the cat in her arms. It hisses at Fizz on her shoulders before jumping away and down through the floor.

Waverly gets up off her bed. “Where have you been?” She struggles to keep an even tone. She almost trips over a cat as she tries to put the books away.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, what with you looking so focused and all. I watched Wynonna play games. She swears an awful lot.”

Waverly just nods quietly. Ever since ‘The Great Realization,’ it’s been hard for Waverly to talk to Nicole. There’s just so many, too many, thoughts, for Waverly to be able to communicate or whatever mentally healthy people do. Because Nicole is just so damn terrific. She’s patient and considerate and interesting. Waverly doesn’t know if she’s gay. Okay, actually, Waverly mentally concedes that Nicole is probably some shade of non-heterosexual, but according to her own calculations, it’s probably all cancelled out by old west sensibilities. Apparently, life sat down and decided that it was a good time to wreak havoc on Waverly’s general existence and then just threw a cherry of bisexual problems on top.

“Waverly, are you okay?”

“Mmm? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been banging the same book against the same spot over and over.”

Waverly fits the books in on a different shelf. Nicole saunters over next to her. “If it’ll help you take your mind off whatever the problem is. I’ll show you something neat.”

Waverly thinks it over for a second. “How neat?”

“Really neat. Do you own a crowbar?”

Waverly grins. “Earps practically keeps crowbar manufacturers in business.”

“Back to Wynonna’s room then?”

“Is she gone?”

“Her and Willa went into town.” Nicole begins backing up, looking down at the floor like she can see through it. “They were going to ‘kick ass and take names.’ Come on, Waverly.” Nicole drops through the floor in a blink.

Waverly trails after her. She walks into Nicole’s room to see Nicole sticking her face through the closet doors. “Your sister leaves a lot of wrappers in here.” 

“She proudly refers to herself as a human garbage can. Of course she does.” Waverly lifts piles of clothes in search of her sister’s favorite hunk of metal that doesn’t go vroom.

“No wonder the cats like it in here.” Nicole pulls her face out of the closet doors and looks around “All this trash must attract so many mice and bugs.” She puts her face through the mattress and looks under the bed.

Waverly begins digging through the unpacked boxes in the corner of the room. “Your cats like Wynonna?” 

Nicole looks at Waverly. “They like you more if that’s what you’re asking. So do I. Your sister is cool, but she’s very loud and vulgar.”

Waverly nods pensively. “Most of the times teacher call her ‘expressive’ and ‘opinionated’ on paper.”

“Why does she tell Doc and Dolls to get into construction so much?” Nicole asks. Waverly frowns, not sure of what Nicole means. “She constantly tells them to go screw themselves.” Nicole delivers with a straight face.

Waverly grins before cracking into laughter. Nicole smiles back at her.

“I leave for five minutes and you think it’s cool for you to rummage around my things? Normally, you ask Waverly so I can hide my reams of porn.” Wynonna says from the door frame.

“Wynonna! I didn’t think you’d be back.” Waverly chances a look to the bed. Nicole is still against the wall, watching them both.

Wynonna knows the strained tone well and her eyes roam the room. “Who’s in here with you? I came back because Doc brought a BB gun and Dolls was armed his usual dashing good looks and robot charisma, so I thought I should have a weapon too. And here you are, laughing to yourself in my room. What the fuck, Waves?”

“I’m just laughing at a thought. I saw this grand, just hilarious, picture of a dog earlier and I just remember it. You know, silly Waverly.” She gets up to leave the room.

Wynonna turns in the doorway and blocks it. “I want the truth.” Her jaw is tense to the point of being strained. “I don’t like this, the sneaking around, the lying, you keeping to yourself. Whatever is fucking with you, whoever is messing with you. Tell me so I can pulverize it. Jesus, Waves.”

Waverly takes a few steps back. “I told you earlier, teenage angst. I’m just being a wild, hot-blooded youth.” She answers, tense from head to toe.

“We both know you were joking.” Wynonna advances on her sister. “Has Constance already messed with you?” Wynonna inspects her sister, shifting clothing. 

Waverly jerks away from her sister. “You want to know what’s going on? The charm that I got to get rid of our attic ghost made me be able to see the ghosts up there. Our house is haunted by one pretty redhead and like fifty cats. She’s who I’m talking to when you think I’m doing weird stuff with Champ. Also, Constance did re-threaten me, but she threatened my ghost.” She turns to Nicole and mouths sorry. Nicole looks up, confused, like she hadn’t heard. “So, my main activity for the past little while is trying to figure out how to make that not happen. Everything is just very stressful right now.” Waverly’s voice is a contained shout.

Wynonna stares wide-eyed for a second. “You know, Doc always had a theory you become a drug addict because of how messy our family is and school. I disagreed because I didn’t think you knew how to get or even use drugs, but now I owe him five bucks.”

“Wynonna, I’m serious. You’re being kinda rude to my ghost.” 

Wynonna grows serious. “You’re for real, aren’t you? My sweet little sister can actually see and chit chat with a ghost?” Waverly rolls her eyes. “Shit, I knew there were ghosts in her, but that surpasses my talents. That’s fucking awesome, Waves.”

Nicole stands side by side with Waverly. “It feels rude not to introduce myself, now.”

Waverly tilts her head at Nicole. “She just said your existence was drugs.”

“She didn’t mean it in a mean way. Could you please introduce us? It’s very important to me that your family likes me.”

Waverly’s heart flutters in her chest for a moment. “Okay, okay.”

“My sister just talked to a fucking ghost.” Wynonna announces proudly to the air around her, wiping away fake tears.

“Wynonna, meet Nicole Haught. Nicole, this is Wynonna.”

“Nice to meet you. Your sister is just dandy. One of the best people I’ve ever met.” Nicole tips of her hat.

Wynonna looks awkward. “What do I say? I can’t see or hear her.”

“I’ll translate. She said it was nice to meet you and that I’m, uuhh,” Waverly hesitates. “In her words ‘just dandy and one of the best people she’s ever met.”

Wynonna grins. “Waverly.”

“What?”

“That’s gay.”

“Wynonna.” Waverly says in her warning tone.

“I mean, I’m pretty damn oblivious. I thought you were dating Champ Hardy, for Christ’s sake, but that is pretty damn gay.” A thought socks Wynonna in the stomach. “Oh-my-god-you-have-a-thing-for-your-personal-ooglie-booglie.” She spews out really quick.

Nicole tries to hide her grin from Waverly’s left. “I don’t think that word has the same meaning for the both of us, but if you mean my comment towards your younger sibling was sapphic, than I feel complimented. I’d be honored if your sister was interested.”

“Wynonna, you offended Nicole. Why do you do this to all my fri- wait, what?”

Nicole removes her hat. “Waverly, you are very pretty and if I didn’t have my current,” she pauses to think for a moment, “ailment. I’m sure I would’ve expressed interest much sooner. I learnt from your television that sapphic tendencies are allowed to be in the public eye.”

“Waverly?” Wynonna waves her hand in front of Waverly’s shocked expression.

“There were gays in the wild west?”

“The belief was girls didn’t have-” Nicole ears grow red “-sex drives back then. Nobody ever noticed. Then I died, and I've decided that dating was probably a no.”

Waverly closes her eyes and rubs her forehead. “I had all this bi panic for no reason then.” Nicole shrugs in response, looking sheepish.

“Waverly?” Wynonna asks again.

“I want your crowbar.” Waverly stares flatly at her sister. Wynonna lifts her pillow up and passes Waverly the requested item.

“What are you going to do with that?” She asks as she hands it to her younger sister.

“Nicole was going to show me something.” Waverly informs her. Wynonna grins something wicked. “No, Wynonna, shut up.”

“I’m coming then. You frisky kids need an escort.”

“She struggles to hold a pencil. I don’t believe there’ll be much touching.” Waverly counters.

“I’m a gentleman.” Nicole says at the same time.

“Let’s go, come on. Time to follow your ghosty down uncertain paths.”

Nicole looks confused. “We’re heading down the driveway.”

Waverly nods, eyes closed as she internally loathes her sister. “Just, let’s go.”

By the time they’ve gotten to the fence closest to the driveway, Wynonna has been informed adequately about Nicole’s life details. Most of it was met with expletives and Wynonna asking where Nicole is now. Eventually, Wynonna decided to use her Earp ghost sensitivity and randomly tries to stab her hand through Nicole. This was met with a scolding glare from Waverly every time she was successful.

Nicole measures for a few moments before pointing at the ground. “Here.”

“There?” Waverly crouches and touches the grassy ground.

“That’s just ground. That’s lame, grass is everywhere. Your ghost adventure is lame for a ghost adventure.” Waverly raps her knuckles on the ground. It cause a hollow, wooden, sound. “Okay, I take it back.” Wynonna takes a step back as Waverly uses the crowbar to scrape up the grass, revealing wooden panels. 

Nicole gives Waverly a thumbs up. “The contents should be a little fragile.”

Wynonna takes the crowbar from Waverly and begins trying leveraging it. “Dude, what were you hiding, other than your gender and sexuality?” Wynonna grow frustrated at her own lack of success. She begins smashing the wooden panels in. Waverly jerks backwards at her hard swings into the wood, trying to protest over the loud thudding and cracking of wood.

“Nicole said it was fragile!” Waverly yells when Wynonna takes a step back.

Wynonna tosses the crowbar down. “I didn’t hear that.” 

Waverly sticks her hand down the dark and pulls out a rusted metal box. It crudely has N.H. carved into the top. There’s no latches or hinges, just a very dented and old box.

“Great, your friend has decided to give us tetanus, that’s a real adventure.” she says sitting next to her sister.

“Open it.” Nicole encourages, joining the sisters on the ground. Waverly pulls the lid off. Inside is a small sheriffs badge, a rusted revolver, and a key. “You can give the revolver to Wynonna. I never used it, but she’d find it fun, I think.”

“Be nice to it. It’s old and Nicole’s.” Waverly hands Wynonna the revolver.

Wynonna fiddles with it for a few second. “Oh, that’s cool as hell. Single action, army colt from like the 1870s. I saw it in a video game once. Sick.”

Nicole points to the badge in the box. “That’s the badge Nedley gave me and that’s the key for- Actually, I don’t know what its for. I can’t remember.”

“Are you mad your non-corporeal pal made us dig up her old things? Although, it’ll be worth it to see Doc’s face when I show him this.” Wynonna asks, twirling the gun. It falls off her finger and into her lap. She cringes like it might go off.

Nicole’s lifts her chin defiantly. “I buried these things because I didn’t want to lose them. I’ve had nobody to dig them back up until now.” 

Waverly smiles. “If they’re important to you. They’re important to me, I’ll keep them in my room.” Wynonna makes kissy noises. “Shut up, Wynonna.”

Nicole suddenly twists around. “I think the cats are in trouble. I’ll be right back.” Nicole gets up.

“Nicole is leaving.”

“Bye, Waverly’s fellow attic dweller.” Wynonna says, not looking up from her new toy.

Nicole rolls her eyes with a grin before tipping her hat to Waverly and vanishing. The sisters look at the newly found items in silence.

“What’s your anti-Wicked Witch of the Worst plan.” Wynonna says, all too conversationally.

Waverly slumps, her Nicole-high vanishing. “I have no idea. I don’t know anything that could reasonably stop Constance or protect Nicole. I’ve read and read and read. The only thing I’ve found is that Nicole is pretty much an exposed nerve to Constance.”

“Then I guess we’re going with Plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“Plan Earp. I’ll rally the troops and we’ll look for a solution too. All you have to find is a stall.” Wynonna lies down in the grass next to her sister.

“What stops a witch that we’ve got?”

“I hear buckets of water are free.”

“Ha ha.” Waverly says dryly. “My ribs are just cracking from you hilariousness. Be serious, Wynonna.”

“I know a lot about Ghosts. Not as much as Willa or Dad, whom we can’t tell about any of this because they’d blow your cowgirl to smithereens before you can even scream. You’re really good at research and I know nothing about Witches. You’ve been devouring books about the occult since you could read, I can’t help you with Constance other than physically assaulting her.” Wynonna pauses. “But, between the one and a half brains me and my boys have, we might know enough about ghosts to save your girl.”

Waverly turns to look her sister in the eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

“Give me permission to tell the boys and promise to treat us to some quality baking when we crush Glinda the Lewd Bitch.”

Waverly sighs deeply. “Alright, deal.” It’s just so much. There is so much potential for failure and disappointment and it feels like an eighty pound weight crushing her chest.

Wynonna perks up. “Really?” She hops up to her feet. “I’m gonna go to the boys right now. Thank Nicole for the cool gun.” She speeds off down the driveway, whipping out her phone and yelling for Dolls.

Nicole comes back, her sheriff shirt full of cats and sits next to Waverly. “Your sister’s gone.” She says as she removes the cats from her shirt and places the felines around them.

“Mmmhmm.” Waverly pulls her knees to her chest and rests forehead on them.

“Are you okay?” Nicole asks in a voice as soft as her beloved cats.

“I’m so tired, Nicole.”

Nicole stills, processing the information. She looks down at her hands in her lap and at Waverly. The worse part about being a ghost is seeing everything, but not being able to effect any of it, she clenches her fist so hard that her knuckles pale. She cares so deeply for Waverly and all she has to help is words. She wants to be a shoulder to lean on, but she’s not even solid enough to support a bug. It’s agonizing. She takes a deep breath and places her hand on Waverly’s shoulder.

“I know, Waverly, I know.” and she squeezes with all her might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this taking forever. I got really sick and had to live on a diet of gatorade and crackers. I'm going to get a chapter out every three days instead of two. Thanks for all the support! My tumblr is: unicornsarehaught.tumblr.com/ and my charming editor who threatened to jump out a window if I didn't get this out is at: sensitive-pigeon.tumblr.com/


	6. It was bound to get a little depressing eventually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really want to make this story angsty, like ever, but it's important to the plot so... insert some sort of trigger warning here

“Nicole? Nicole?” Waverly asks to a dark empty room. She waits a moment and...nothing happens. Nicole is nowhere, which is highly unusual and freaky. Normally, Nicole pops up if you even think about her. She’s, albeit loosely, explained the severity of the Clootie situation to the ghost and she seemed fine with it for the past few weeks, even helping with research sessions as much as she can. There seems to be a lot of gaps in her memory, Waverly had tried to pen a timeline down, but it seems like every other major event in the other girl’s life has poofed away.

Then a few days ago, Nicole started acting oddly. Waverly thought Constance had made her move, but every spell she used to detect the use of magic came up empty. So, naturally, the next conclusion is that Nicole is ill, somehow.

That idea made Wynonna spit out her coffee onto Dolls and fall out of her chair because “Oh my god, Waves. She’s a ghost. What’s gonna give her the sniffles?”

Doc had been trying to help in between Wynonna’s missions for a solution. He snuck the Earp family notes on spectral behaviour to Waverly, which was a distinctly negative read. Nicole wasn’t a malevolent spirit or anything- she just wasn’t all there. Which made Waverly worry even more. Now, Waverly had finally looked up from her latest ancient text to find not a single cat mewling at her feet or napping on the bed in the attic. There is always cats in the attic.

“Nicole?” Waverly asks again as she creeps through the house, towards Wynonna’s room. She raps her knuckles to be polite, but at the sharp lack of a response. She just opens the door. “Wynonna?”

“Holy shit, Waverly! I could’ve been masturbating. You would’ve been fucking scarred.” Wynonna yanks down her headphones and talks through a mouthful of chips.

“I’m looking for Nicole.” Waverly tries to slaughter that image in her mind before it grows up.

“Haven’t seen her. Ever, actually.” Wynonna smiles at her own joke.

“Maybe you’ve vibed her out.”

“She has not been sending out good vibes, babygirl. I’ve muted her, blocked her caller ID. I don’t need that in my life.”

“Then help me look.”

Wynonna gets up from her paused game to open her nightstand. “It’s almost midnight.” She pulls out a bottle and slowly unscrews the cap. “Our older sister has skipped town with a man who looks and acts like someone wished to meet someone from the Capitol government. Our dad is passed out drunk, presumably at the bar, maybe in a field with some cuddly sheep. There is a witch whose dream is to obliterate you and your hot version of an old cat lady.” Wynonna takes a long hard drink of the amber liquid. “Sure, why not, let’s go out.”

“You check out back and I’ll check out front.” Waverly instructs when they leave the house, flashlights in hand. “First, we should check out the barn, though.”

The two walk to the empty building. Their pajama bottoms are tucked into steel toed boots and they’re both wearing over-sized sweaters that they found on Wynonna’s floor. Their hair is mussed and their steps are slowly taken and by all accounts it should seem like a sleepy walk from the bed to the fridge for a late night snack, except for the tightness of their shoulders and the constant turning of their heads at the slightest breeze.

“Ghostie?” Wynonna asks as she opens the large barn doors and shines her light in. “If you’re in here, knock something over. But, like, politely, not in the horror movie way.”

Waverly rolls her eyes and walks past her sister, she runs a hand over the chip in the beam. “I don’t see anything.”

“I don’t feel your girl, either. Not that I would, because you called dibs and I would never purposely wreck one of your relationships no matter how great yo- you know what? I’m gonna shut up and look around.”

“You think?” Waverly walks to the back of the barn, shining her light at the ceiling. “Nicole?” She flashes her light at the corner. “Squirm isn’t here.” She sweeps her flashlight along the wall, maybe she moved to soak up sunlight? Nope, nothing “Wynonna, Squirm isn’t here?”

“Is that some sorta drug?” BAM! “Ow, fuck, I walked into a wall.” Wynonna’s voice comes from somewhere out of sight.

“No, Squirm is this old cat that Nicole showed me. A mother of a lot of the kittens. She’s always here.”

“I specialize in ghosts, freaky sex postions, and blocking out traumatizing events. Cat behaviour is not on that list.”

“Yeah, but it’s a ghost” Waverly runs her hands around the corner. 

Wynonna walks up behind Waverly. “Maybe it-”

“Wait, shut up. Cats, animals in general, don’t they tend to go away when they sense danger? Like birds flying away from an oncoming storm?”

“Yeah, but it's a ghost, a cat ghost, what’s a danger to it? It’s not like we have any ghost dogs on the property.”

Waverly gets up and hurries out of the barn. “Wynonna, please check the backyard. Be thorough and quick.” Waverly quickly checks around the barn. She starts walking along the fence. “Nicole?” She carefully steps over the flowers lining the fence. “Nicole.”

Waverly jerks her flashlight up. A shadow moved or something moved or maybe Waverly is just paranoid, but please oh please, let Nicole be alright. “Nicole?” The darkness seems to be getting thicker and thicker as with each step. There isn’t much further that Nicole can go. The fence is about to meet the driveway.  
The light from her flashlight catches the pale red of her hair, glowing like an the last ember in a fire pit. “Nicole? Nicole? Are you alright?” Waverly hurries forward. Nicole is standing, facing out into the darkness, like a knight guarding something precious. The cats circle and surround her, mewling and hissing, quietly. “Nicole?” Waverly takes a step into the writhing ring of cats.

The hissing and snarling is like thunder. Waverly jerks back. “Nicole!” Waverly says with much more urgence. Nicole’s entire body seems to relax, deflate. She turns around and looks at Waverly. Her eyes are steeled, frightened, and extraordinarily angry. It vanishes in a moment like it could be a trick of the (non-existent) light.  
“Lord lifting loving Pete, Waverly.” Nicole hurries to Waverly’s side. The cats immediately fill in for their leader, watching the end of the driveway, tails twitching. “Are you okay? You shouldn’t be out here, it isn’t safe.”

“Well, no duh. Constance is coming.”

Nicole’s voice is unusually stern. “No, Waverly. Something really bad is happening. It’s going to come soon. I just have to watch and stand there and I’m going to stop it, okay? I’m going to keep everyone safe.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“No, no, this is my job. I have to do it right, this time.” Nicole looks unusually solid.

“Okay.” Waverly backs away slowly as Nicole resumes her place among the cats. She has to tell Wynonna about this. She turns on her heel and runs back to the house. If crows and non-supernatural beings freak out at storms than something has to be uber bad to spook something much more.

Wynonna is sitting on the porch, drinking a juice box. “Did you find your girly? Cause I didn’t she’s ain’t vibing loud enough. Maybe she packed up and went on vacation.”  
“She’s standing like a centurion outside of burning Rome.”

“I didn’t get any of that because I slept through history, but that sounds bad.” Wynonna smiles up at her sister.

“Can you just keep your Earp radar on alert? Just scream if anything changes.”

Wynonna gets up and puts an arm over her sister’s shoulder. “Sure, babygirl. Let’s have some warm milk and cookies and get to bed.”

“Thanks, Wynonna.” Waverly mumbles.

And so they go to bed. Waverly shuts her eyes and the tendrils of sleep sweep her away. Wynonna games for way too long and ends up passed out halfway through a Mariokart race. And they wake up the next morning and Nicole walks in, happy as a clam, and announces that it was a false alarm with a wide grin before asking Waverly to explain how toasters work.

Except, none of that happens. Waverly nervously paces the basement for hours and Wynonna sits in her room, quietly, waiting for the bad thing to come. Nicole stands, and she watches and it seems like the night might pass. They’re an hour off of sunrise before Wynonna shouts “Holy shit!” and Waverly runs downstairs.

“Waverly, there’s a fuckton of ghostly shit happening. Like normally your girl and her ghost kitties are a fucking ridiculous amount of spectral bullshit, but this is that to the umpteenth degree.” Wynonna says, experimentally swinging her crowbar. “I’m going to guess that this is what Nicole was all excited about.” 

Wynonna grabs her sister by the hand and drags her out to the front door. “What the bag of dicks.”

Nicole is running up the driveway, her cats stampeding behind her. She grabs Waverly’s hand and pulls on it. “Waverly, we need to go to the attic now.”

Waverly looks at her sister who shrugs. “Go with her, Waves. I’m going to trying to hit spectres with my good pal, big heavy thing.” She says before walking down the drive, occasionally swinging the crowbar. 

“Waverly, come on.” Nicole pulls again, eyes on the interior of the house. 

Waverly wants to ask about how Nicole can suddenly touch her with ease, but that honestly isn’t the most urgent thing going on in her life. Waverly squeezes Nicole’s cold hand back and nods. “Let’s go, Nicole.”

Nicole pulls Waverly through the doorway, her gang of cats don’t follow her. They circle the house, mewling loudly. Nicole’s head whips around trying to look into all the rooms. She begins to pull Waverly up the stairs. Waverly pulls the ladder down for Nicole, who quickly ushers Waverly up to the attic before following behind.

Nicole paces the room impatiently. She looks around like she’s searching for something.

“Nicole, are you okay?” Waverly asks quietly.

Nicole removes her hat and scratches her head, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “I’m trying to find something.” She hits her head a few times with the heel of her hand. “I can’t remember what it is. It’s important. I can’t remember anything. We need to hurry.”

Waverly sits on her bed. “It’s not any of my things?” She asks. Nicole shakes her head. “The only thing of yours that we have is an old box, that gun, the sheriff badge, and the key.”

Nicole lights up. “T-the key.” She stumbles over her words in excitement. “The key. It needs to go into the door. In there, it's safe, nobody can get in there. We need to be in there.”

Waverly opens the drawers of her wardrobe. “Wynonna told me to always keep my precious things in my underwear drawer.” She moves stuff around for a second. The box isn’t there. She looks up and catches Nicole’s eyes. Nicole’s hands clench into fist.

“No, no,no. It can’t be gone. We need that. We have to- we have to find it.” Each word is a rising crescendo of panic. “We’re dead without it.”

Waverly searches her wardrobe for it. “Aren’t you dead, anyways?”

“I am? Right, right, I am.” 

Waverly finds the box and opens it. Nicole looks down over her shoulder as she takes the key. “It was under my pants.”

Nicole kneels next to Waverly and takes the key from her hand. “Thank you so much, Waverly.” She says, oddly calm. A loud screeching meow cuts through the air. Nicole goes upright. “They’re here.” She goes to the door in the attic and puts the key in. She turns the key and jiggles the knob. “Come on.” She growls. Waverly’s hands ghost over Nicole’s arms before she opens the door.

The room on the other side of the door is dusty, obviously. There’s a small chair in the corner and broken glass from a broken bottle in a corner. Waverly quickly grabs her flashlight and shines it inside. There’s a tipped over metal pail and the waxy remains of used up candles on the floor. Waverly walks deeper inside. Nicole closes the door behind them and pushes the chair under the knob. 

“Now, what?”

“We wait.” Nicole sits down in the corner, opposite from the broken glass.

“Nicole, what exactly is happening?”

Nicole’s look grows stormy. “I told you, something bad is coming.”

“And I get that, but I need more information so I can fix this.”

Nicole fiddles with the brim of her hat. “Some bad people are angry and they’re coming. I don’t know more than that.”

Waverly drums her fingers on the floor. Another screeching meow leaks into the room. “What’s that?”

Nicole looks distant. “They’re killing the cats to lure us out.”

Waverly straightens up. “Aren’t you going to do something about that?"

Nicole’s eyes look so tragically frustrated and desperate. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I never do.”

“What do you mean you never do- oh my god, I know what’s going on.” Waverly’s breath is taken away at the sudden realization. “You died today, didn’t you?”

Nicole nods, somberly. She shifts uncomfortably where she sits.

Waverly traces hearts and stars in the dust next to her and begins reciting neutrally “A common spectral phenomena is re-enacting or re-creating the circumstance of their death. The strength of such an occurrence grows stronger the closer it is to the actual date of the ghosts death.”

Nicole nods, she knocks on the wood beneath her, it sounds hollow. “I’m closest to being alive on the day I die.”

Waverly is stunned into silence. She’s always known that Nicole was dead, but it never really felt real. It felt like a joke, like something everybody knew about but no one took seriously. It’s suddenly hit her all at once. Is it weird to mourn someone who has always been dead?

Nicole gets up and paces around the attic. “On the plus side, I’ve gotten to hold your hand and that was swell.”

“How can we stop this?” Waverly’s never felt so serious in her life.

Nicole shrugs. “We don’t. It happens and we move on.” She looks around the room. “We won’t be in here much longer. The day will be over soon.”

“Is that why you stayed back? Because the cats died while you were in here?”

“I probably would’ve stayed back anyways.”

“You’re a good person, you know that, Nicole Haught?”

“And you’re the smartest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Nicole says absently, like she just assumed it was some sort of compliment power hour. She runs her hand over the walls.

“Nicole?” Nicole looks at Waverly. “How’d you normally do this every year if the key was underground?”

“I skipped this step.” She says removing the chair from the doorknob and opening the door. “Come on.”

“You mean, you didn’t die here?” Waverly follows behind Nicole as they exit the house again.

“Did you see a corpse?” Nicole peeks around the corner of the front door. “I’d prefer it if you’d cover your eyes right about now.” Nicole holds Waverly by the hand again and leads her out of the house and around the side.

Waverly closes her eyes, not because she needs to be babied or anything of that nature, but she trusts Nicole. If it’s bad enough that Nicole thinks she shouldn’t see it then she shouldn’t see it. She follows behind Nicole. The grass squishes underfoot and the air smells wet, threatening rain.

“Where are we going?”

“To the well.”

“I thought the well was a no go because of the cats.”

“I remembered it wrong. I think the well is a no go because of me.”

Waverly takes a deep breath. “Can you see Wynonna?”

Nicole stops their walk to look behind her. “Your sister is swinging at ghosts she can’t see with a crowbar.”

“Wait, the people who killed you are here?”

“Nobody killed me, technically. I mean, they did indeed create the circumstances, but it was more elaborate then that.”

“Yeah, because everybody cares about technicality right now.”

“Sorry, I misspoke. They’re not really here. They’re closer to echoes from that day.” Nicole says, beginning to walk them again. 

“You’re oddly calm now.” 

“You’re an irregularity during all this. It makes it seem much less real. You’re a miracle worker, Waverly Earp.”

“As nice as it is, is flirting really appropriate on your death day?”

“That wasn’t flirting. I haven’t flirted with you the entire time I’ve known you, because that would be inappropriate.”

“I don’t have a response to that.” 

Nicole stops them both suddenly. “Waverly, keep your eyes on the ground. Otherwise, you’ll step on the flowers and they’re quite pretty today.”

Waverly opens her eyes and focuses them on the ground. The rosemary from before. Nicole speaks again as they continue you, much slower. “I remembered what rosemary means. It’s the flower of remembrance and a symbol of fidelity. A funeral flower.”

“We don’t have to go to the well, you know.”

“We do and once we do. This is all over and I’m myself again. I don’t think there’s anything bad left for you to see, by the way, so you can look up, if you want.” 

Waverly looks at the well, her feeling much different about it then it was a while ago. “Nicole.”

Nicole turns and looks at Waverly. “This is the only time that it’s not super difficult to be corporeal. What I’m about to ask is very rude, and I’m sorry if it hurts you so please say no if you believe there to be even the smallest chance.”

Waverly stares at Nicole expectantly. Nicole looks down and takes a deep breath. “May I have permission to kiss you, Waverly Earp.”

Waverly’s face lights up with a watery grin. “Next time, you don’t need to ask permission.”

Waverly kisses Nicole and even though her lips are freezing cold, Waverly can’t remember ever feeling warmer inside. Nicole holds onto Waverly’s with a grip like she might float away, which is actually a distinct possibility.

Nicole pulls away first, blushing. “That was really quite great, Waverly. Thank you.”

Waverly smiles. “That totally gave away the fact that you haven’t kissed anybody in over a hundred years.”

“The kiss?” Nicole looks worried.

“No, the formal thank you. The kissing was fantastic.”

Nicole smiles before clearing her throat and taking a step back. “You need to turn around now.”

Waverly nods, swallowing the burgeoning lump in her throat. She turns around. Nicole hesitates for a moment. She nods, resolving herself before stepping before and placing a kiss on Waverly’s cheek. “Thank you.” She whispers.

Nicole takes a step back and turns around. She takes a deep breath of air she doesn’t need and closes her eyes. 

The air is deafeningly silent for a moment before a series of rapid footsteps and the scraping of stones. It’s quiet, for the longest moment that tricks Waverly into thinking it's all over.

Thud.

Waverly crumples to the grass.

“Babygirl! I killed all of the evil ghostly jojo mojo. They just all poofed away.” Wynonna announces triumphantly. “Oh, this is a serious moment.” She says much more somberly. She sits next to her sister.

“Nicole died today.”

“I’m sorry, Waverly.”

“She’ll come back, right?”

“I don’t think she’d let anything separate her from you.”

“She kissed me and then she died.”

Wynonna lets out a big huff of air. “What a romantic.”

“Is it weird to mourn someone who’s already dead?”

“Life’s weird, Waverly, do what you want.”

Waverly nods quietly.

“Do you know what I want to do? Take you inside and make you a large vat of kraft dinner without burning it.” Wynonna says. She pulls Waverly up and hugs her sister as she walks them in.

And they sit downstairs and eat in quiet. Wynonna cracking jokes as Waverly pushes her food around with her fork until Ward Earp comes home and they hurry upstairs. Wynonna offers for Waverly to sleep in her room with her, but Waverly shoots it down, citing the deal she made with Willa.

This is real. It happens all too slowly and the entire time Waverly feels like she’s been holding her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And it does.

Late at night, Waverly lies in bed staring at her clock as it creeps on from midnight. Then, suddenly, a soft meow in the attic space.

“Fizz, shhh. She should be sleeping. If you wake her up, she won’t grow taller.”

Waverly sits up in bed and looks at Nicole who stares straight back. “You’re back.”

“Of course I am. It’s a new day. Are you okay?”

“You just re-died and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

“Yes, because I’m used to this.” She kneels at Waverly’s bedside. “Thank you for being there today. I haven’t said this to you yet, but I’m really happy to not be so alone anymore.”

Waverly lies back down and rolls over to her side to look at Nicole. “Are you going to politely leave and wander the property?”

Nicole takes off her hat and puts it on the floor next to her. “If you’d like. I was hoping for your permission to spend the night here, so you won’t worry that I’ve left you for good. We can talk about everything tomorrow and I'll explain everything the best I can.”

Waverly nods. “That’d be nice.”

“In that case, good night, Waverly Earp. I hope you have sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Nicole.” Waverly lets out a deep sleepy breath. “And Nicole?”

Nicole looks up from Fizz. “Yes?”

“Thank you for staying.”

“Anything you need, Waverly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise answers and for the next chapter to be less depressing. So sorry for getting this out so late, I got distracted and painted a basement and rewatched all of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Also, it wasn't suicide, I'm ruling that shit out now. It wasn't suicide


	7. The pronoun game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly completes her english projects, Wynonna has an idea, ghost puns galore, Nicole is still confused and polite (tw for off-screen very ungraphic animal violence... imo anyways)

“Once upon a time, there was a man. He was quiet, and didn’t care much for people, but he protected them anyways. He built his house outside the beginnings of a slowly growing town and protected people as far as his horse could carry him. 

One day, he made a mistake. He kept a promise to a childhood friend turned criminal. With his friend on his deathbed, riddled with holes, the man listened to his final request, to protect his only daughter from all the outlaws that he had screwed over one too many times. 

The man accepted and brought the girl home. He threw the corpse over his horse and gave his red-haired friend as closest to a proper burial as he could. He wasn’t loving or affectionate by any means, but he never tried to be cruel. When the girl requested that she wanted to be like him, she wanted to protect people, she had an idyllic dream of peace. The man cut her hair before she finished her sentence and dropped his hat on her head before remarking that he’s never had a boy before.

So, the girl grew up, secluded, but doing all the chores and tasks she’d do if she was a boy. When people asked about her, the man always said that he just didn’t feel like caring for the land himself. The girl loved her chores, the satisfaction at exhaustion dancing through her bones after a job well done. 

When the barn got rats, the girl asked if she could have a cat or two from a gentleman that the man recently saved. The cats seemed to multiply at the challenge of the increasing amount of rats. The man once said he couldn’t tolerate tripping over cats and threatened to drown the next litter of kittens. The girl promised to be a protector of the people, and, through the power of compassion without logic, that stretched to her feline friends. They were people. She dug a small pit where the man never went and tried to sneak kittens into it as much as she could. The cats seemed to thank her with soft mewls and the girl began to understand why the man was who he was.

And the girl grew into a woman. When most girls were beginning to charm suitors, she was donning her badge and helping capture the man who robbed the local shops. The men in town called her “babyface” and the woman would tip down her hat to hide her grin. Things, things were good. The man would thank her for a hard day of work with a grunt and there always seemed to be a cooked meal in the house even though neither of them could cook. The people seemed thankful for the red haired lad who helped protect them. The woman was happy and proud and her hand always seemed to cautiously drift to the gun at her hip.

Until something went wrong, as things tend to do. The man came home, with a straight face and shaking, restless, hands. A group of men had come into town, inquiring about a red-haired man who should be growing quite old by now. They boasted about they had shot his wife dead and how his daughter must’ve been eaten by animals in the night. They said they shot the red-haired man, but they never saw his corpse.

“Even if he is dead. We still got business with ‘im.” They said, eyes blazing for someone to challenge the statement.

The man hoped they would pass through, until a talkative drunk smashed his hopes after telling them about the red-haired sheriff. So, they stayed and caused trouble. Not enough that the man could do much, but enough to cause unrest. But, in a tense moment one of the cocky bastards had put his hands where he shouldn’t and the man, without much thought to it, whipped out his gun and shot him dead.

This didn’t go over well with the bastard’s friends.

They accused the man of waiting to shoot them, they called him crooked and a murder, they said that the man must’ve been hiding their target and announced to the town what the red-haired man had done. How he was a coward, and a thief, and a murderer. The man had told the bastards that he doesn’t care for their nonsense and went home to a restless sleep. The woman was left in ignorance at this turn of events, she had been up all night riding home from a town over, where she was helping build fences for a week. She slept soundly, and the man slept with his hand on his gun.

The men came in the night. Loud and abrupt like an oil fire, they stormed onto the property. The woman slipped on her hat and gun. The man was already up. He shushed her and slipped a key into her hand. He said he had a promise to keep. He nodded to himself, saying she was strong and could take care of herself, but this was not the time. He told her to go into the room into the attic and lock the door behind her. He told her not to leave until he returned. She shook her head and tried to return the key, insisting on her help. The man shook her head and in an unbelievable act of courtesy, he looked her in the the eyes.

“Please.” He said. He gently coaxed the gun out of her hand.

And she listened, fighting the feeling in her guts. She told herself she understood what the man was feeling. She told herself over and over like saying it makes it real. She told herself about honor and duty and she shut the door behind her. She weaved a story about promises and protection as she locked it and she sat in the corner of the room. She quietly filled the gaps in her sentence with whispers of love and affection.

The man got on his horse and bellowed with gusto as he rode past the men, into town, and far away from the ranch. He led them on a great chase and put the red-haired person in the ranch house far from their mind.

He didn’t come back.

The woman waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually, after many, many, hours. She heard the sound of the door opening slowly and heavy footsteps. She rose to her feet and her hand stretched out towards the door. Ready to turn the key that was still in the keyhole and be free.

“Come out.” The harsh voice shouted, following a thud that practically shook the house.

The woman’s hand jerked back.

The man was never coming back.

The harsh voice thundered through the house, destroying as he wished, a storm in human form. He left, after a small eternity, slamming the door shut behind him. Then the screeching mewls of pain began to fill the gaps the harsh voice’s silence left.

“Come on out.” followed the agonized noises.

The woman’s heart stopped in her chest. She promised to herself to protect the cats. They were under her protection and she was abandoning them. As each pain mewled exploded into the air, the woman formed a plan. She abandoned her badge in the room and creeped downstairs, hand clutching her hat to stop the tremors rocking through it. She snuck out of the back door after checking for any sign of life.

There was a well, in the field behind the house, it had dried up long before she was born and the man had always said it was a poor well even when there was water. Sometimes water from rainstorms would collect at the bottom, like the rainstorms earlier that week. The air still felt damp from them. Mostly, the man used the large bucket to drown kittens.  
She never had a particular affection for the well.

But she did know that she could climb down to the bottom. She had done it before. Stone stuck out from the side of the well to make a shaky ladder. If she could just climb down, they wouldn’t find her, she’d be safe in the darkness at the bottom.

She ran, as fast as her long legs could take her, She spared a moment to see if any of them had spotted her. They hadn’t. She swung herself over to the inside of the well and began her descent. The interior was slippery, she tightened her grip. She was only a few steps when-

“What about the field?”

She quickened her pace.

“I think I heard something.”

Her hand reached for a stone and her foot reached down for the next safe ledge.

“I suppose it’d be faster to drown these damn things.”

Except, she reached for a stone that wasn't there and the next ledge wasn’t safe, it was slick.

A fatal error.

There was falling and then an extraordinary brightness. A warmth that began to sing through her skin and muscles. Everything felt soft and gentle and perfect.

A pained mewl rings out from the distance. The woman felt it yank at her from deep within the warmth. The cats.

The cats. The cats. The cats. It echoed over and over. Who would water them tomorrow? There was a litter coming soon. She- she had to be there. She had to hide the litter from the man when he came back.

Every single of her senses felt like lightning. The warmth became a searing heat and the woman writhed underneath it. She could feel everything, but the only thing she noticed was her worry. Over something stupid and minor. The cats. She left before the man came back, what if he takes it out on the cats? She has to wait for him to come back, for the cats.

And everything stopped.

Her next memory is her laying in her bed in the attic. She gets up and she wanders. Just putters around the house, waiting. She finds cats, one by one, she lets them into the house. “Just for now.” she tell herself about each cat. Only until the man came back.

One day, the man’s real daughter came into the house. Quiet and in a dress of black, she leaves her husband at the door. She quietly puts things in a box.

The woman gets it now. The man had died. She follows his daughter silently, unsure of what to say. No words in any order seemed right. Silence is best, she supposes, the man never wasted words anyways. The daughter heads into the woman’s attic. Maybe, she wanted to talk privately, the woman thought. The woman wandered the attic silently. She produces a small silver box from the bigger box she was putting thing in earlier. She walks into the secret room, the door still wide open. She grabs the woman’s key, and her badge, and silently slips it into the box. She rests the box upon the bed before pulling the woman’s gun from her bosom.

“They found this on him, I thought I should return it.” His daughter whispers, placing it with the other two items in the silver box. The woman waits for her to turn around and hand her belongings. His daughter troops on. Down the stairs and out of the house, where her husband waits with a shovel. The woman follows them down the road. She watches as they dig a small hole. She watches as the husband steps back and away with a spectral silence. 

The daughter crouches before the hole. “They say that you ran away and left him behind. They’ve been calling you a coward. But, my father was so incredibly proud of you, like the son he never had. I don’t think he could’ve been proud of someone who was the type of person to run. I hope it was quick, and peaceful. I hope you are happy with him. You both are probably sitting around with God, quietly chugging beers and watching over everyone with an eagle’s eyes. Thank you so much for everything you were to him.” She places the silver box in the hole. Her voice drops to a much quieter tone “I’m sorry that there won’t be a proper burial. There’s no body, we’ve got nothing to put in the ground except this. My father always said everyone deserves a good burial.”

The husband steps forward as the daughter steps back. The woman stands in stunned silence, trying to make sense of it all. She wants to scream for them to stop burying her precious things, but something seems to be stopping her.

Quick, peaceful, God, burial.

The woman’s hand goes to her chest and she breaks her silence from when she first woke up. 

“I’m dead.” She whispers. Can somebody mourn for themselves? The woman leaves in a flurry, through the front door, up the stairs, up the ladder. She sits in the middle of the floor. The emotions stampeding through her. The cats seem to appear out of nowhere, they surround her. Their sandpaper tongues and noses caressing her skin with a patient devotion. The woman picks up a cat and places it on her shoulders.

“Right, I promised to protect you. I’m sorry that I died before I could save you from the bad men.” She says to the cats in a choked voice. She swallows the tears and fills her voice with a hardness like a brick. “But, I’ll take care of you, now. The best I can.” She vows.

So, she did.

and she still does.”

Wynonna lifts her head from her chin. “Wow, you finally got Casper the french-kissing ghost to spill the beans.”

Waverly puts down the papers in front of her. “It’s just my english assignment, don’t look too deep into it.” 

The sisters sit in silence before Wynonna perks up “Holy shit, get your ghost and get ready to be ghoulgle translate.” She says, slamming her hands onto the kitchen table.

“Nicole?” Waverly asks the air.

Nicole appears to her left. “Yes, Waverly?”

Waverly turns to look at Nicole. “Wynonna has questions. I’m here to be your UN ambassador to the country of crazy.”\

Wynonna is practically vibrating in her seat. “In the story, you said the body was never found, but the last place you remember is climbing down the well.”

Nicole knits her brows, shifting her stance. “Yes.” she says warily. Waverly tell Wynonna her answer.

“Her body is at the bottom of the well!” Wynonna jumps to her feet.

Waverly and Nicole share a look. “We know. It’s kinda of easy to put together.” Waverly says to her sister.

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Waverly, you may be very in tuned with Nicole’s brand of spectralness, but I’m highly trained in the general field of ghosties. So, you might not get the importance of the sentence.”

“Oh boy, you’re about to get very annoying, aren’t you?”

Nicole looks between the sisters. “I do not think get it.” 

“Nicole doesn’t understand what you’re getting at.” Waverly reiterates.

Wynonna paces back and forth, her hands folded behind her back. “A ghost kind of works like a footprint in the mud. With enough emotions and strong feelings you can create a pretty deep footprint. Like your desire to stay for the cats, but that doesn't always create a haunted house. You usually need something to make the footprint stick. Like heat would turn a footprint in the mud to stay there. Sometimes, a really prized item would work, but the thing that works the best is a piece of the person themselves.”

Nicole looks at Waverly. “I’m a little lost.”

Waverly shrugs and Wynonna continues. “Take Peacemaker for an example. It has generations of strong Earp affection in it, so it’s like Diet Possessed. Like how normal pop has sugar in it, but the diet stuff always has a bunch of not-sugar mutant chemicals instead. We use it to out-ghost the ghost, but that isn’t the important part of this fact.”  
Waverly sits up, beginning to pay attention. “So, what is?”

“Waverly, your ghoulfriend is like a super strong ghost. She’s got valuables here. Her own corpse, a heavy attachment to here. Her soul is pretty much a living person’s if you yanked it out of a body somehow.”

“Constance is going to have a hard time putting the moves on her.” Waverly says. Wynonna nods, excitedly.

“Listen, Waves. I have an idea on what to do about your friend.” She spins in a circle, a little breathless. “I need to talk to Doc and Dolls.” She begins putting on her shoes. “You keep working on an anti-witch solution. I’ve got your girlfriend.” Wynonna yanks her coat off the hook and vanishes out of the front door.

Nicole frowns. “Why would anybody be putting the moves on me?”

“Long red hair and legs for days, I’m surprised you’ve never been mauled by a string of admirers.” Waverly mutters to herself.

“What?”

“What?” Waverly answers. “Anywho, we just meant Constance can’t magic you up or it would just be pretty damn hard.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah,” Waverly echoes, “What’s the bad news then?”

Nicole stares at the papers on the table. “I feel absolutely honored that you wrote your english project about me.” She pulls herself up to sit on the table, expertly changing from a most definitely dreary subject.

Waverly grins. “It would’ve somehow been about you anyways, trust me.” She picks up the papers and fiddles with the corners. “Your story deserves to exist in the universe."

“Waverly, you continue to be the most fascinatingly kind person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“We should start fan clubs for each other. I feel like we’d have to split the cats fifty/fifty, though.”

“I have heard that sharing is very important in a relationship.” Nicole stretches and yawns as she says it.

A wicked grin spreads across Waverly’s face. “Relationship, eh?”

Nicole flushes as red as her ghostlyness allows “No-no, Waverly. I’m sorry. I just, I just, I m-meant-”

“-Officer Haught, you’re slipping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this taking forever. I got a bunch of oral surgery (tooth exposure and wisdom teeth) then I drove my motorcycle into a ditch and got a boo-boo, after that was my birthday. So, I wrote this the day after my birthday cause i really do try. Im so sorry for taking forever. I promise to do better. Anyways. Thank you for reading as always.


	8. Preparations because a bucket of water doesnt work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly talk and put up tarps (thrilling, I know) and Wynonna plays with corpses without the proper equipment. Listen, it's gotta wind down and wind back up again, ask anybody who makes mixtapes.

Waverly ditches her schoolbag on the floor. She drops a greasy paper bag in the kitchen counter.

“Nicole?” Nicole pops up next to the fridge. “Nicole, I think we have a solution to our witch problem.” Waverly bounces excitedly on her toes, grinning from ear to ear.

“I never doubted you, Waverly.” Nicole says moving a small cat away from the paper bag.

Waverly gestures to the bag. “Meet our hero and savior, McDonald’s.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Wynonna asked me to pick her up McDonald's on my way home. Because she likes their cold burgers, but that’s not important. The point is, I got fries with it and while I was eating them I remembered about all the passages about witches allergy to salt.”

Nicole nods pensively. “So, we’re going to…” Her forehead crinkles under her hat as she tries to understand, “throw salt at the witch?”

“Well, that was my first thought. But, I figure if we just cover all the entrances with salt, maybe, booby trap a couple of them. We’d be in the clear. All you’d have to do is stay inside.” Waverly announces proudly.

“What if she brings me outside? If she uses her magic to try and pull me out of the house...” Nicole waves her hand through the door handle on the fridge. “It’s not as if I can just hunker down and hold onto something in a jiffy.”

Waverly falters for a moment before resuming her cheery demeanor. “That’s why we’re gonna take a bunch of french fries, put them into a cannon. Boom! Anti-witch gun.”

Nicole stares blankly at Waverly for a moment. “I’ve been so poor to you, Waverly. You’ve must’ve been sleeping so little trying to solve this.” Waverly begins to protest. “I completely forgot about how much sleep living people need.” Nicole paces. “I’ll watch the house and you take a nap. If something bad comes, I’ll just drop some cats on you. The lack of sleep is making you say weird things, I see that now.”

“Nicole, I’m fine. I mean, I have not been getting the recommended minimum of eight hours of sleep, and my eighth grade health teacher is definitely disappointed, but I can sleep when you’re safe. I’m gonna call Champ and have him deliver a bunch of road salt, but for now.” Waverly hoists herself up onto the counter. She stands on it and carefully opens a cupboard door. “Table salt.”

“Okay, Waverly. How can I help?”

“Tell me how attached you are to that barn, because I have some ideas and I haven’t talk to my AP chemistry teacher yet, but I have some ideas.”

“It’s all yours.” Nicole says, putting her hands on her belt.

Waverly jumps down from the counter. “Are you sure? You really like that barn. You know, the whole memory with the” Waverly makes a gun with her fingers, “pew pew?”

“I trust you and your reasoning. Just leave my cats out of it.”

Waverly spins around her ghostly companion. “All hail Nicole Haught, patron saint of the kitty cats. You’re an actual 156 year old cat lady.” She jokes.

Nicole sticks her tongue out at Waverly before pulling a cat close to her chest. “When this is over, I’m going to find a way to haunt you until you die.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Indeed, Waverly Earp. I’m going to close doors right before you reach them.”

“We should just drop the whole salt thing and have you threaten the heebie jeebies out of Constance.”

“I am not really violent, Waverly. I feel like I could just charm her until leaving us alone,” Nicole jokes.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, we could’ve saved me from so many all-nighters,” Waverly says sarcastically.

Nicole laughs. “What’s your backup plan?”

“Why’d you assume I have a backup plan?”

“Waverly Earp just screams ‘prepared person.’ You must have a backup plan.”

“Well, I have a couple incantations and every season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer memorized.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Bought some stuff to prepare my trap. Mind entertaining me while I make your beloved barn airtight?”

“I’m sure it would be just dandy.”

Nicole follows Waverly outside. There, leaning against the side of the house that’s closest to the barn are several buckets of pool pellets and a lot of tarp and several rolls of duct tape. Nicole clears her throat.

Waverly smiles a bit bashfully. “I talked Champ into dropping me and the stuff off.”

Nicole nods. “Champ, right, he’s very- solid and alive.” She forces herself to sound neutral.

Waverly grabs two buckets of pool pellet and ditches them inside the barn before coming back. “I suppose.”

“Do you guys spend a lot of time together?”

“I remind him that two plus two is four sometimes at school, why?”

Nicole shrugs as Waverly carries the next two buckets away. “No reason.” 

Waverly wanders back to Nicole next to the supplies slowly, studying Nicole, who’s leaning against the barn, one leg crossed over the other, shaking to an unheard beat. “Are you jealous, Nicole?” Waverly pries, offhandedly.

“No.”

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous of. He’s got muscles and decent hair. Tragically, his brain weighs as much as you do.”

“I’m not jealous.” Nicole answers back, a little too quickly. “But, that’s good to know.” She adds as Waverly drops the last bucket of pool pellets into the barn.  
“Okay, well you pretend not to be jealous. Could you move your cats away from the barn? I don’t want them underfoot when i start putting the tarps up.”

“They do get cranky when you step on them.”

“Nicole, that was one time.”

Nicole scoops up a cat. “It’s okay. I won’t let her stomp through you,” she cooes to the cat.

Waverly grabs the first tarp. She presses it against the lower corner of the barn and smooths it out before taping it down. She begins running long strips of tape along the bottom, smoothing out the tarp with caution before laying down each strip of duct tape. She begins taping up the sides, balancing on her tiptoes and wobbling and straining as she reaches high above her head.

Nicole almost forgets to control the cats as she watches.

“Alrighty. Now.” Waverly pushes a ladder against the wall and struggles.

“Why can I not know the plans?”

Waverly tapes the corner down. “You can know some plans, but not all the plans. We aren’t sure what she can do to you and if she can, you know.” Waverly wiggles her fingers near her head. The ladder wobbles a little at the shift in weight. “Read your brain or some similar voodoo. It would destroy our heavy hitters. We’re compartmentalizing information, like secret organizations in comic books.”

“I definitely do not know what that is, Waverly.”

“Compartmentalizing is when you have a bunch of stuff and divvy it all up so-”

“-I mean comic books.”

“Oh.” Waverly climbs down the ladder. “I’ll show you later. You’ll like Peggy Carter.”

Nicole watches as she moves the ladder to the other corner and tapes the corner. “I’m surprised you need a ladder. Our barn isn’t even that big. It’s not like we kept lots of hay or livestock.”

Waverly flicks the tarp, making sure it was tense and tight.

“You’re really small,” Nicole continues.

“Nicole, you better stop yourself from going down whatever path you’re heading down,” Waverly warns as she begins to tarp the other wall.

“No path. Just making statements based on observations. A very important part of sheriff work.”

Waverly observes Nicole for a moment. “I thought it was mostly getting ready to draw and saying ‘this town ain’t big enough for the both of us.’”

“That never happened.”

“I guess Clint Eastwood films are bad to base your view of the wild west on when you actually know someone who lived during the cowboy era.” Waverly says as she returns to taping. “For a history nerd, I was always more interested in older civilizations. Mesopotamia, Ancient Rome and Greece, the Aztecs and Mayans, Egypt.”

“I think your time is pretty spiffy. I mostly experienced through people coming in and out trying to fix up the place and people who broke in to be warm for a night or even for a dare, but I remember the first time I saw a girl wearing pants.” Nicole smiles at Waverly. “It felt good, even though I did nothing.”

Waverly finishes the wall and climbs down. “Remind me to stop showing you disney movies and to start reading you history books.”

“I really like Aristocats.”

“Is it because you are also a charming ginger?” The ladder tilts and creaks as Waverly ascends.

“You are not pale enough to be Duchess, Waverly.” The transparent ghost answers passively.

“Remind me why we aren’t officially a couple? It’s not like much would change. We would literally just have to worry about Wynonna’s teasing, since she’s the only person we can tell and she’s already teasing us anyways. Really, nothing would change.”

“I think that I should be able to provide certain things that I cannot because of my current physical state. You deserve the best and I do not believe I can give you everything you deserve.”

“If you’re not going to let us romance, you should stop doing stuff like that. Being so damn sweet.” Waverly sighs out.

“Waverly-” Nicole begins apologetically.

“Nicole, you’ve got to-” Waverly pulls both off her hands off the ladder to gesticulate. The ladder loses its balance and begins to fall.

“Waverly!” Nicole panics. She drops the cats in her arms and rushes to the ladder. She reaches out to steady the ladder, her hand goes clean through it. She tries with her other hand. The ladder stops and Nicole pushes hard to straighten it.

“-being so damn sweet.” Waverly finishes, gripping onto the ladder for her life.

Nicole waits until it's sufficiently steady. She sits down with a huff. “Ladders are much harder than wooden spoons.” She sounds exhausted. She lifts her hat to run her hand over her hair, like she might feel it damp with sweat, before plopping it back down.

Waverly goes a little faster to finish the wall. “Thank you. Holy cow, are you okay? I’m all done with the tarps. Do you need anything?”

Nicole nods slowly. “Just tired, you are fine too, right? No injuries?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not even that tall of a ladder.” Waverly says dismissively. 

“Are we going back inside?” Nicole gets out slowly, pausing before each word in place of a deep panting breath.

“Of course, I just have to spread the pellets around the barn, then we’ll go in.” 

The cats seem to begin to gather around Nicole. They nose her curiously and begin to mew softly. There definitely wasn’t this many cats outside earlier. 

Nicole begins to get up. “No, no, you can wait here.” Waverly protests.

“I promised to entertain you well you worked. I intend to fulfill that agreement.” Nicole straightens up before sitting in the entrance of the barn. “See. I can see you, you can see me. No problems now.”

Waverly nods and walks in behind her. She cracks open each bucket of pellets and slowly puts the white, hockey puck like tablets around the barn, keeping an even distance between each one as much floor space as she could. Without the light drifting in from the cracks in the wood, the barn is much darker, even with light pouring in the the open doors.

“Mind telling me about these pool pellets?” Nicole says, eyeing the tablets.

“You put them in your pool, which is a tiny artificial pool or lake. They have chemicals, namely chlorine, which cleans them. Then there is fun to be had by all, because you are now swimming in a pool which you can pretend is clean, until children and jerks go in it.”

“Wow.”

“Yep.” Waverly says, laying down the last pellet.

“Are we finished now?”

“Nope.” Waverly says, before slamming her heel down on the tablet. She stomps on the tablet a few times, grinding it into dust before spreading out the dust. She does this to each and everyone. The sun is beginning to set by the time she finishes the last one and checks to make sure the tarps are on well enough. A pickup roars up the driveway. The door slams shut behind her

“Alrighty! Sit down and shut up nerds.” Wynonna shouts as she strides into the barn. She immediately cringes. “Sorry, Waverly.” She clears her throat as Doc and Dolls trail in behind her. “My boys and I are here to save the day. We’re gonna exca- excav- move Nicole’s rotting corpse for my great and fascinating idea.”

The boys trail behind Waverly “I’m sorry, Wynonna, I do believe that I have misheard all of the words that have left your mouth just a few moments ago.” Doc says.

“Me, you, and him are gonna climb to the bottom of a well. Drag a corpse up the well, put it in your truck and take it to my secret location.”

“Beg your pardon?” Nicole rises from the floor, puffing out her chest and squaring her shoulders a little.

Waverly looks from Nicole to her sister. “I don’t think Nicole agrees with your plan, Wynonna.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “She’s a ghost. Her opinion is void.” Waverly stares down her sister. Wynonna sighs. “She just has to trust me.”

Nicole looks at Wynonna, incredulously. “Trust you? I barely know you.” She takes an advancing step.

“Nicole disagrees.” Waverly translates

“She’s gonna have to live, or I guess, not-live with it.”

“Waverly.” Nicole says desperately. “She just said the other day my body is helping keep me here. Waverly, I don’t want to go.” 

Waverly pushes her hair away from her face. “Wynonna, she thinks you taking her body will make her poof away.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’m gonna hack off her finger, leave it there, take the rest of it. It should work out great.”

“Should?” Nicole bites out.

“Wynonna, Nicole hasn’t grown up with your constant lack of elaboration.”

“My generations of ghost knowledge has taught me if there is some of you here, you should be fine.”

“Waverly, she doesn’t sound very certain.” Nicole says, still wary.

“Are you going to tell us your genius plan?” Waverly asks, rubbing her forehead

“Ha ha ha.” Wynonna laughs dryly. “No.” She lifts her foot and wipes the pool tablet powder from her shoe. “Am I standing in cocaine, babygirl?”  
“This is my genius plan that I’m not telling anyone about.”

“Huh, okay. Tell your girl that if this goes by the wayside. I’ll keep her corpse on me always so that she can haunt me in revenger forever.” Wynonna leaves the barn, boys trailing behind her.

“I never agreed to anything with corpses, Earp,” Dolls says.

“Shut up. Yes, you did. When you knocked on my door saying,” Wynonna begins to do a poor impression of Urkle, “‘I’m doing research for my father’s book, could you, erm, tell me about your fine spectral work?’ That was you checking the box that you wanted to involved with all this weird shenanigans.”

Nicole follows slowly, still exhausted.

“Lord lifting loving Pete, Wynonna, How are we gonna get the corpse up the well?”

“I bought extra strength Glad bags and you know, teamwork makes the dream work.”

“I have never dreamt of exhuming a corpse with the spirit of the body still watching me.” Dolls says dryly, when the arrive at the well. Nicole stays several paces away from the well. Waverly stops next to her, unsure of how to comfort her, well, friend.

“Really, Dolls? Cause I call that a Tuesday night.” Wynonna tosses a rope ladder down the well and begins climbing down. Nicole tenses.

Waverly stays by Nicole’s side. “Can you be a little more respectful than a Glad bag?” she calls out.

“Why? It’s not like she’s in it. I’ll have Dolls, a beautiful man with no other redeeming features, kiss it.” Wynonna calls up from the well and Doc begins to shakily work his way down.

Dolls rolls his eyes and kisses the bag before tossing it down to Wynonna at the bottom. “What Wynonna means is, she’s acquired a certain philosophy. She doesn’t mean disrespect.” He says, looking around. His voice grows softer. “But, I trust that if Wynonna, a paranormal idiot savant, thinks this is the best route. It is. One thing that the Earps don’t lack is intellect.” Dolls tosses down a toolbox.

“Ow, And a taste for alcohol,” Wynonna shouts up.

Nicole nods and begins to wander closer. “I suppose I should witness my own body.” She leans on the stone wall of the well, staring down at Wynonna and Doc as they work. Her hands rest on the top of the well’s stone foundation.

Waverly places her hands next to Nicole’s. In the dark, with her hat, Nicole’s are hidden behind a haze of shadow’s as Waverly tries to gauge where her ghostly companion is emotionally at.

Then she feels it. The soft pressure of Nicole’s pinky finger wrapping around hers.

“Nicole, you’re exhausted.” Waverly says, almost pleadingly.

Nicole nods, not looking at Waverly. “It’s fine. You are worth it, Waverly Earp. It is the only way I can think of to thank you for all your hard work for me as well.”

Waverly nods, much less numbly then Nicole. “We’ve been touching a lot more lately.” She begins jokingly.

“Your sister is apparently just leaving a pinky finger down there. Might as well use it.”

The girls laugh together.

“Holy shit, Waverly. Your girlfriend's skull is heavy, are you sure she isn't a neanderthal.” Wynonna says through the rusting of some trash bags.

“Funny, she’s asked if you were a neanderthal too.” Waverly counters. Nicole looks at her confused at her talking about something that didn't happen.

“Ha.” Wynonna shouts back. “She’s lucky I love you so much or I’d be selling her on Ebay.”

“Watch yourself, or I’ll go inside and throw away your McDonald’s.”

“Wait, you actually got me that?” Wynonna stops what she’s doing in disbelief. “Oh, fuck off. Dolls and Doc, I know she’s technically naked and gentlemanly honor and stuff. But, I’m leaving the lady in your hands.”

Waverly has never seen someone scale a rope so fast.

“I’m having me some McDonald’s. Woohoo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank Goluckydanny for helping me remember the canon of my own story and being my big brother. Sorry about taking forever. I had to fly across country by myself (cause im 16 and a big kid now) obtain a whistle made of a car antenna created by a 100 year old man and fly back. Somewhere in there i got drunk and played with chemicals. ALSO READ MY EDITOR'S STORY, PLEASE! It's like this if I wrote scary things. It's called GET LOST. I love you, thank you so much!


	9. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champ Hardy hits a real hard spot. Waverly has a mysterious package. Chrissy is a good friend. and threats all around

“When I dropped off that rock salt at your place first thing this morning all the lights were off. Where were you, babycakes?” Champ jogs to catch up with Waverly’s quick pace through the beige halls.

Waverly gives him a strained smile. “I just went to school early. I wanted to ask a teacher about something.” She continues to head towards her locker.

Champ stares at her, like such a concept as getting ahead on your work stalled his brain function. “That’s okay, I’ll let you make it up to me and we can go out after school. You, me, dark theatre. I’ll even let you pick a soppy lady film.”

Waverly twirls the combo into her lock and pulls her locker open. “As charming and thoughtful as that is, I have to talk to the science teacher and get this lab report done.” Waverly says with thinly veiled sarcasm.

“Listen, my uncle had both a golden and a chocolate lab. It won’t take you that long. Just write that they bark and chase balls. Plus, there’s nothing like a little action from a Hardy to get you hard-y.” He smiles, proud at his pun. A few girls heading to their next class stare at him. He winks at them.

Waverly has her books in her arms, she turns to face him. To tell him to dick off as politely as possible. “Champ-”

Champ places his hand on the locker above her head. He grabs her chin and leans close, moistening her face with his hot breath. “Waverly, you can’t refuse me. I’m beautiful and you adore me. You don’t need to play hard to get. I can see right through you.” The blaring din the of hallway falls to a fragile hush. All the students pretend they aren’t staring, desperate to see the confirmation, trying to win their money from their bets on Hardy-Earp relationship status.

Waverly brings her heel down hard on the top of his foot. His stumbles back, bending down to cradle his foot. “Listen, Champ. I don’t like you. You have no redeeming qualities. Yeah, you have abs, but you also think that a base in science is a fort the scientists hide in. In grade six, someone brought scented markers, you thought they were flavored and ate them. You fell sick and had to get your stomach pumped and told everyone when you came back to school that you did it on purpose.   
Champ, you are narcissistic, rude, and expect that you should be worshipped for basic acts of human decency. I was holding out for you to stop being obtuse for a second and realize that I just want to friends. The only reason any girl looks twice at you is because of your pickup that your parents bought.” Waverly looks him over for a second, to make sure she’s said all that’s need. “Also, your shoelaces are untied. You should fix that before you wreck that pretty mug of yours. I need to go.”

Waverly begins to stride away, feeling much lighter. Champ looks around the halls. “You can’t say that.” He says, throwing his hands. “A nerd like you should feel blessed to get my attention. Not even a decent rack makes up for you or your family’s weird ass bullshit. Who asks for twelve pounds of rock salt at dinner time? You don’t put rock salt in your meals, even if you’re a fucking Earp!” He lets out a grunt of pain.

“Wow, Doc, I didn’t even know that Dolls gorgeous binder of notes could even be used to injure. You can open your eyes now, Dolls. How’s that for beauty is pain, Champ? Now, scuttle away to detention like the other bottom feeders who can’t actually get the consent to touch bottoms.”

Waverly turns around to see Champ with a protective hand on his skull. “I don’t got detention, you fucking nutjob.”

Dolls clears his throat. “Yes, you do. Mr. Hardy. For profanity in the halls, and fighting. You have two days of detention. Unless, you’d like to come with me to the office and we can discuss your punishment with all three of us. The principal included.”

Champ glares at Wynonna. “See you in detention, freak.”

“What detention?” Wynonna says sweetly. “I’ve never received any detentions.”

“Fighting in the halls.” He says with venom. “Ain’t that right, Dolls?” He continues, smugly

Dolls shrugs. “I didn’t see anything. I’m not allowed to dole out punishments for things I didn’t witness.”

He looks around the hall and locks onto Waverly. “You did this. You sicked your wacko sister and her pets on me.” He steps forward.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Doc smiles up at Champ. “Lest you want something else of yours that goes unused injured, just like that hollow noggin of yours.” He presses Dolls’ binder just a little more painfully firmly against Champ’s crotch.

Champ’s eyes dart around before he backs off and leaves the hallways in a huff. Wynonna and the boys walk to Waverly at the other end of the hall. “I saw you kick his ass. It was beautiful, babygirl.” Wynonna wipes some fake tears away.

“I stepped on his foot.”

“Yeah, yeah, if the jockstrap or friends give you trouble, I mean, you could shout for us, but we’re probably already there, kicking their teeth in, costing their rich, negligent, parentals thousands.”

Waverly pulls Wynonna into a hug. 

“I love you, kiddo.” Wynonna whispers.

“I love you too.” Waverly pulls away. “You need to get to class. If you fail then you’re done-zo. And you are so close to passing this year.”

Wynonna shoots a peace sign as she walks away. Some kids stare at her and whisper. Wynonna lunges at them and snickers when they flinch away.

Doc tips his hat at Waverly. “Always a pleasure with you, Earps.” Dolls snatches the hat off his head. Doc shrugs.

Waverly takes a deep breath to center herself before continuing down the hallway. A wall of sound brimming with the tale of what just happened occupies the hall. Waverly drums her fingers on her binders. At least that’s dealt with.

“Good evening, Mrs. Sebacher.”

Mrs. Sebacher had pictures of her best and brightest around the room, all dressed up in their graduation robes, a bit like Professor Slughorn from Harry Potter. The sinks in the classroom always leaked, filling the room with their wet dripping. Mrs. Sebacher always had a large ant farm built into her desk. Students of hers frequently whispered about how she puts the tiny, formic-acid-spitting, demons into the desks of any student who fails without putting any effort into the classroom. Other than that, her room was amazing clean. Unmarked white desks, wobbly chairs free of scratches and drawings.

The teacher looks up from her desk, looking semi frazzled. She squints at Waverly before jumping up to her feet. “Waverly! It’s good to see you. When I saw your request I was…” She trails off, gnawing on her bottom lip to find the end of her sentence.

“Impressed by continued pursuit of glorious science even outside of your classroom.” Waverly suggest, albeit uncertainly

“No, disturbed. The word was definitely disturbed,” Mrs. Sebacher corrects, “But, I got what you asked for anyways. After all, nothing can be worse than the time your sister used a kitchen knife to dissect the gills of her group’s shark. She had just used that same knife to cut a birthday cake.” The older woman stares off into the distance.

“Willa or Wynonna?” Asked Waverly, one of the defining questions of her high school career.

“Willa.” Mrs. Sebacher laughs. “In all honesty, honey, I don’t think Wynonna knows this hallway exists.” She shoves her hands in the pockets of her jacket and rocks on her feet blissfully. Waverly places her books on a table and rests a hand on the wood of the desk.

“Oh, righto. The stuff you asked for! The things!” Mrs. Sebacher pulls out a heavy chain of keys and unlocks her supply closet. She doesn’t even bother turning on the light. Instead she bangs around the dark of the closet. Waverly debates following her treasured Chemistry teacher in. Yeah, she has a better chance with the ants.

Mrs. Sebacher stumbles back into the room. She closes the door behind her with one foot, hobbling on the other. In her hands is a large wooden box with a glass bottle containing sloshing some liquid balanced on top. She places it next to Waverly’s thing. “Keep this.” She waves her hand over both the bottle and the wooden box. “All of this.” She continues, pointedly. “Away from water. I had to pull so many favors to get this amount of this...” She runs her hands through her fluffy hair

“Thank you. Mrs. Sebacher. I am so grateful.” Waverly says genuinely, running her hand over the wooden box.

“If your experiment makes the news. I was never your teacher.”

“Mrs. Sebacher, you’re already on my college applications."  
“No, no, no, I am not. However, if this does go well. Please film it and send it to me.” She sits down in her chair which spins away from Waverly. The teacher frowns and does a strange, jerky, body wiggle until it faces Waverly again.

“Why would you want a film of it?”

“Because science is important, Waverly. If we didn’t have science, I would not have a job. Not to mention, everything you asked for is highly potent and reactive and you were a premium chemistry student. I am expecting quite the-” She makes an explosion noise with mouth and flaps her hands with a corresponding explosion gesture.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Unless, you’re doing something illegal and/or newsworthy for the wrong reasons.” She says, actually saying slash between and, and or.

“Then, Waverly Earp has never attended this school.” Waverly gathers all the stuff in her arms.

“So, bright. So quick to catch on. This is why you are my favorite, still attending this school, student.” Mrs. Sebacher throws her hands in the air and spins in a circle. “Now, get out. This is fourth period, my break period, and I want to feed my Pharaoh ants colored things so I can watch them change colors while I eat lunch. Get out.” She sits in her chair, scooting behind Waverly, gently hitting her with a rolled up piece of paper until Waverly leaves.

“Thank you.” Waverly repeats. Mrs. Sebacher smiles and gives her a thumbs up before kicking the door shut behind her student.

Chrissy Nedley, straightens up from the lockers she was leaning on, flicking paint she scratched off from under her fingernails. She clicks her tongue and places her hands on her hips before looking down at Waverly. “Champ was telling everyone that you’re sleeping with a teacher and that’s why you won’t go out with, and I quote, ‘a modern day Heracles like himself,’ but I have to be honest. Mrs. Sebacher doesn’t seem like your type. I figured it would be Mr. Martin, that sweet piece of substitute teaching ass.”

Waverly scrunches up her nose. “Heracles killed his wife and all his children and had a horribly tormented life.”

Chrissy studies Waverly. “I totally get why we don’t gossip together if that’s what you were most focused on from all that.”

Waverly smiles and begins heading to her locker. She steps quickly, needing to take two steps for one of Chrissy’s long, confident strides. “Normally, I’d be asking about the double Earp beatdown the school has just been abuzz with but, you just left the chemistry with not one, but two, mystery containers and you skipped fourth period to pick them up.” Chrissy gestures to the box and bottle in Waverly’s grasp. Her heels click loudly as they walk through the empty hallways.

“It was a very necessary evil. I should be asking you why you skipped class to come find me.”

“I don’t know. We’re friends. I’m not sure about anything that’s going on in Modern History when you’re not there.”

Waverly looks down and frowns slightly. “You came because you can’t copy my answers on the handouts.”

“No, because you get really excited to tell me things that will never be on the test and you keep the class from being a snore. You never skip periods, so I assumed confronting Champ destroyed your tiny little mouse heart.”

“Why would it do such a thing?”

“You are so small, Waverly. I assume because of how high strung you get that thing is pumping at several miles a minute. Tiny, little, mouse heart full of confrontational adrenaline.” 

Waverly crouches in front of her locker and spins the black dial of the beaten lock. “I’m fine.”

“Fine, but if you picked up materials to start you own Breaking Bad drug ring. I call dibs on being your Jesse Pinkman.” Chrissy says holding onto the door of Waverly’s locker. “Now, put the beginning of your drug empire away so we can learn about Stalin or whatever.”

Waverly shoves her books in her locker. She draws a sharp breath through her teeth. “I'm skipping the rest of school today. I only grabbed my books cause Champ made me panic.”

“Two periods, Waverly Earp? This is quite a change in you. Good, feel your badself. I am astonished. I’ll cover for you.”

“Really? Thanks.”

“I feel like your sister might actually kill me otherwise.” Chrissy shrugs. “Don’t turn this into a habit. I need you to seem cool. It’s hard when you’re the Police chief’s daughter.”

“Duly noted. I will be extra brilliant from now.”

“I said seem cool. Don’t go full Waverly, I’ll seem like a bigger idiot then Champ.”

Waverly smiles and straightens up with her wooden box and glass bottle secure in her arms. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, now get here before your ‘up’ gets all ‘tight’ kicks and you don’t skip class.” Chrissy says with a casual wave.

Waverly speeds away, down the stairs. Each stair creaks and groans at each leaping step. Perfect, all she has to do is get home, set everything up, make supper for everyone, make sure that Willa is still off with that clown, and then she can enjoy her time with Nicole. 

Nicole, Nicole is going to be so impressed. If Waverly does her part and Wynonna does hers this can be nothing short of fantastic. Waverly’s brains stalls for a second, before stuttering backup, Waverly forgot to add put down salt barriers to her list of things to do. Nicole is going to be impressed by how prepared she is and how great this will turn out. She might be so impressed that she’ll drop this no dating nonsense and date her.

That would be beautiful, Waverly think with a wistful sigh

She turns around and pushes the heavy school doors open with her back and runs out to the bike rack

_Brrring!_

Constance continues to flick the bell on Waverly’s bike. “The bell’s cute. The basket too. Nice touch.” Constance runs her hand over the handlebars and seat.  
Waverly freezes. She has no salt on her. She can’t use any of the chants now or Constance will know she has them and find a way to counteract them. Constance smooths her dress as she straightens up and faces Waverly, unnervingly calm.

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured I came here to give you a warning, but also that look of surprise and fear when you saw me?” She grins a feral, malicious, grin. “Delicious.” She’s like panther prowling slowly towards it’s cornered prey. 

“Why now? Why not later or weeks ago?” Why are you here now?” Waverly is helpless, but to ask questions. She’s not the hero who vanquishes the enemy with a valiant strike of a sword. She’s here to outsmart, outplay, and information is all too vital. It’s all she has to something in this equation. She has no leverage.

“Tell me, littlest Earp, what is humanity’s biggest killer?”

Waverly pauses at the riddle. “Themselves? Contagions we share, we kill each other willfully, accidents, we’re constantly offing ourselves and each other.”

Constance laughs. Slowly, quietly. Something soft and dangerous, a stalking beast in the night. Waverly can’t help but think she’d look good in a dalmation coat. The witch stares at her shoes, like she’s talking to the ground. “Hope. I let you grow that tiny sapling of hope inside of you. A sweet little voice that whispers that ‘You’re the good things. Everything’ll be alright in the end.’ I let you grow attached to that thing sleeping next to you. So, that when I snuff it’s light out. It’s less like me squashing a bug to you and more like killing a beloved family dog.”

Waverly straightens up. “Then your hope of beating us will be your end, too.”

Constance shrugs. “It’s not hope. I don’t need to kill you, hell, I won’t lay a hand of you, but I will gut you, Earp. I will make you feel emptiness like you never thought you could experience. You’re my favorite Earp after all. The littlest Earp cursed with empathy. I bet you have hopes and dreams for that thing.” Constance looks up.  
“What?” Waverly steps forward, trying to pretend not to be unnerved.

“You’re in love with it.” Constance says with a dry chuckle. “You fell in love with a dead thing. That’s a new low, even for an Earp.” Constance shudders. “Now, I want this twice as bad. Oh my sweet, little, Waverly, you’re making me excited. I was going to just blow it into the next life, but I think I’m going to give a lasting lesson for threatening my boys. I’m going to obliterate it. I am going to tear its soul apart. Stitch by stitch, and it will be slow and painful and it will howl and cry and beg for you. And there you’ll be. Sweet little Waverly Earp.” She takes a step forward. The strange stench of rot she carries on her wafts around Waverly, enveloping her like a hand around her throat.

“You’ll stand there, watching, useless.” Constance cooes.

Waverly felt herself snap. Her eyes flicker back and forth between Constance’s. Her grasp tightens on the wooden box in her arms. Waverly bristles. “You aren’t going to win. I’m an Earp, you shiteater. We play dirty, when somethings to win. You are going to see the full force of an Earp, of me, and it will be like nothing you’ve never seen. For every drop of blood you spill, I will create of flood of agony to repay you back in kind, Clootie. Fucking watch me.” She spits.

Constance smiles. “You’re fired up. Good. You have forty-eight hours. I’m going to crush your little thing and leave you nothing short of a hollow husk. It’ll be fun. I haven’t had good time on a Sunday afternoon in a while.” She walks away. “Hold tight to that hope, Waverly. I want your fingers to break when I snatch it away.” She steps into her pink convertible.

Waverly carefully puts the bottle and wooden box into the basket on her bike. Her fingers ghost over the bell for a second. She squeezes the handlebars tight and wheels out of the school and home. Her thoughts are like a storm, loud and rumbling. 

She kicks up a wall of dust as she bikes up the drive. Nicole leans on the barn, surrounded by kittens. Her voice hushed and sweet as she tells them a story.  
“And then it goes _ding!_ and the toast pops up, lickity split. After the timer finishes, of course. Waverly likes her just warm, a little golden brown, she won’t even run the risk of any bit of it burning if she can. She’s so cautious with it. She’ll pop it over and over making sure it doesn’t burn. She’s very smart.” Nicole holds Fizz close to her face. “One day, I’d like to use a toaster and become a toastmaster too.”

Waverly instantly relaxes. “Nicole, a toastmaster is a member of some club where they do speeches.”

Nicole stumbles to her feet. The cats disband. “Waverly, I thought you decided to stay at school for you last two periods.instead of coming home right away. I was just telling the cats, uhm..” Nicole nervously trails off.

“About my toasting habits?”

“Yes.”

“You’re fantastic.” Waverly says genuinely. She walks past Nicole. Nicole takes steps to match Waverly as they head behind the barn to the door, which was tightly bound shut. Behind it is a large rusty and burned metal bowl. “Wynonna did move it out here.” Waverly pulls out the burnt cooking sheet, lying inside.

“Neither of you said what it is.”

“It’s a fire pit. You guys probably dug actual pits, but this is metal one.” Waverly lays the baking sheet on top. “And it’s going to be a hero.” Waverly pats its side. She looks at Nicole. “Want to come with me to collect materials to for fire?”

“Sure, I have a great eye for wood.”

Waverly grins. Clootie, momentarily, forgotten. “You do, do you?”

“Waverly,” Nicole turns a shade or two warmer, “That’s gross.”  
“At least, you got the innuendo.”

“I don’t sleep, neither does your sister. She yells at the TV a lot.”

Waverly and Nicole stare at each other for a moment. Not really on the homestead, not really anywhere. Just happy and with each other. Nicole smiles. “So, what did you do while you were away?”

“Oh school. Some important supplies to really win us in this witch versus Earp war.”

“What’d you learn today?” Nicole asks, always curious about school. They begin to walk about the propriety. 

“Calc, something about Hamlet, a lot about what’s really important.” Waverly shrugs.

“Oh yeah? What’s really important, Waverly?” Fizz stretches and curls up on Nicole’s shoulder.

“Hope, and each other. That’s why we’re gonna win.”

“I never doubted that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Officer Haught.” Waverly playfully swings her hand through Nicole’s arm, who grins. “Even though we now only have a two day deadline.”

“Wait, what?” Nicole goes to grab Waverly’s arms to stop their stroll.

“Constance and I had a chat right before I left school. She did the usual, threatened to crush my spirit, kill you, exactly what you’d expect.”

“Waverly, are you okay? How are you so calm?”

“Because she made me even more determined to walk away from this the victor. Nicole, we’re going to walk away from this victorious, because we have something she doesn’t.”

“What’s that?”

“High stakes, a real reason to fight. Vengeance is nothing. We have the thing that makes people victors. Determination and passion. True passion. Nicole, she has nothing in this. We do. This actually matters to us. That’s why we’ll win.”

Nicole grins. “Oh yeah?” She grips the hat on her head.

“Oh yeah, plus she royally pissed off Wynonna. I wouldn’t be surprised with Wynonna burns her house down.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Make her regret ever trying this. Make her terrified of cats. I’m going to have your cats lick her flesh off for eternity.”

“Beautiful plan.” Nicole says through a playful smile.

“I think it’s very eloquent.” Waverly matches her companion's mood

“I’ll rent you one cat for twenty bucks for a year.” Nicole says in a mock serious voice.

“Seriously, Nicole? You’re going to get in the way of divine punishment?”

“Yes, this is North America. Capitalism is the only god.” 

“Who let you watch The Wolf of Wall Street?”

“Wynonna. She was worried that I was scarred because you forced me to watch a documentary on Helvetica or something.”

“Remind me to kill her after I finish with Clootie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my neighbor, his science teacher parents, and alcoholic root beer for all my research in regards to this story. Thanks to my AP chem teacher for more science and being the reason why I am so pumped for the chapters after this. THANKS FOR COMMENTING!1! I love it when you guys comment. Emails about comment are my favorite things. So, so, sorry for not posting as much as I wish I was and not responding to each of your comments. I love you guys so MUCH. Thank you for reading. I'm trying to improve from being a shit writer to give you guys the BEST SHIT POSSIBLE. Anyways, it's midnight on a school day. ILY.


	10. Old Fashion Western Showdown (sans guns)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND THE SHOWDOWN BEGINS *western showdown music*

“Did you ever kill anyone as a sheriff, Nicole?” The question hangs in the air, heavy with silence, the second it leaves Waverly’s mouth, It feels louder than it is.

The question is chorused by the sound of wood tumbling into the metal fireplace. Waverly kneels and rips up newspaper. She stuffs it in the nooks and crannies of the wood.

Nicole shifts her hat, taking it off of one of the mewling cats circling her legs. She hums deeply, from somewhere at the bottom of her chest, before sighing. “No, Nedley made sure that never happened.”

“Why?” Waverly says the question nervously, a mouse afraid to leave the darkness. She keeps her eyes focused her eyes on her task. She shifts her position and let’s her hair act as a curtain for the late evening sun.

“Nedley said that the unhappy dead had a habit of haunting you.” Nicole’s cowboy accent thickens at the end of her sentence. They both chuckle at the word haunting. “And the murdered are never happy ‘bout being dead.”

Waverly nods, quieting completely. Even her labor becomes mute at the presence of the new information. She rubs her eyes, how long has she been preparing? Since sunrise? Before that? Midnight? It was dark when she woke up.

Nicole studies her, The stiffness of her movement and the carefulness of them. She watches Waverly place the cookie sheet on top of the faux fireplace and mime flicking in a match before frowning and readjusting everything. “If it is any consolation, Constance probably is not gonna haunt you. I’m not sure what deal she made for her power with the devil, but he probably expects his dues and patience is not going to be his strong suit.”

Waverly squares her shoulders. “I don’t plan on leaving a body anyways.”

The vast openness of nature is “holding its breath today” as Nicole put it earlier. The wind is barely more than a whisper and the only sign of animal life are the mosquitos sticking to Waverly. The air is so dry that just breathing it in makes Waverly thirst.

Everyone goes about their tasks with muscles-coiled-to-strike kind of tension. Wynonna waits on the hood of the truck, twirling Peacekeeper in her hand. She watches the driveway like a watchdog, an unusual seriousness set into her face. Doc places salt down as Dolls draws symbols in locations and murmurs latin over them before marking it down on his map.

The cats prepare differently. They swirl around Nicole like her personal guard, constantly with their claws trapped in ghostly pant leg or climbing all over her body. Their protectiveness makes Waverly’s mood lighten. Waverly looks the wrapped up barn up and down, before looking at Nicole.

“A lot of books I read said that cats have an eye in both worlds. The supernatural and the natural one. Its why they make such good familiars. I guess that’s why your cats can actually affect the corporeal world.” Waverly offers the icebreaker bit of information.

Nicole just nods quietly. “Are you sure, you are ready?” Reality floods back to Waverly. Her shoulders sag under its weight. 

“You can’t really be ready for this- I mean -I'm prepared as I can be.”

“My shining knight.” Nicole throws her hand to her forehead and fakes a swoon.

Waverly smiles and nods with appreciation. “I’m going to check on the house. Do you wanna come with me?”

Nicole shrugs. “Sure, if I can get enough cats off me to get up. Do not wait up for me.”

Waverly does a mock salute before grabbing Doll’s arm as he passes and leading him into the house. She points at his map and begins inquiring about his work.  
Wynonna watches Waverly and Doc pass the threshold into the house. She pauses a second before rising to her feet. Her heavy combat boots thudding against the metal. She jumps down, sparing one last glance down the road. 

Nicole hears Wynonna at her back before the elder sister even talked. “When the time comes, you aren’t going to let her destroy Constance’s soul.”

Nicole nods, ever so slowly. Wynonna settles down next her, receiving hisses from the felines on Nicole’s lap and shoulders. “I understand.”

“How can I know if you do until I make sure you do? Waverly isn’t like the other Earps. It’s the best thing about her. She’s optimistic, and careful, and smart, and painfully good. If you even let her think she killed Constance. I will remind you that my parents have been getting rid of ghost infestations since before America was a country.”

“You are quite good at this protective big sister thing.”

Wynonna shrugs, passively, and relaxes. “No one has ever trusted me to do any other job.”

It’s nice when two people’s goal are the same. Keeps things from being too messy.

Waverly calls from inside the house “Nicole, are you cat free, yet?”

Nicole pets Fizz loving. She pulls him close to her mouth. “Sic her, boy.” Before putting him down next to Wynonna. He crawls onto the Earp’s lap, mewling like a starved kitten. Soon, the other cats join him on Wynonna, mewling loudly. 

“Fuck, if these are your hands, Casper, I will fucking bottle you up and use you as a supernatural battery.” Wynonna swats at the kittens, her hands going through them, pissing them off at the disturbance of their forms.

Nicole brushes herself, now to Waverly… walking is much too slow, it would be rude to make Waverly wait. Nicole flashes into the house, behind Waverly. Waverly startles at her completely mute entrance. 

“Okay, I’m gonna explain to you the entrances and exits to the house. They’re basically like supernatural doors. Get on whichever side you need to be and say the latin phrase “Wynonna est malum” it should shut tight, We hope her magic can’t break our spells, but if it can, use that time to put distance between you and her. Remember, the barn is where we want her to end up going.”

Nicole traces her hand over the symbols around the door, winding up and down and in all directions like an infestation of letters. “Wynonna est malum?”

“Wynonna is evil, Doc’s idea not mi-”

“Waves!” Wynonna’s voice is a stiff shout that slices through the air. Waverly turns to the ghost, expression grave. 

“Hide.”

Nicole nods. “Remember, I trust you.” She says before vanishing.

Waverly takes a deep breath before stepping out to the front yard. Clootie leans on the fence, casually, her feet behind the salt line. Waverly doesn’t look. She stands next her sister.

Wynonna keeps her eyes on Clootie. “I’m going to need a distraction to leave.”

Waverly looks at Wynonna. “Be ready to run whenever then.”

Waverly slowly shifts her eyes from Wynonna to Constance Clootie. Clootie is dressed in a black jack with a raven feather collar. Her hat is white and her heels are high. Waverly feels underdressed in her crop top and shorts.

“I came,” Clootie begins once Waverly’s attention has been on her for a moment, “before night , to offer you a small before night. You should know that a full moon does wonders for people like me.” She says it calmly like it’s not a threat but a fact she’s reading from a text book. “Of course, I’m going to destroy the ghost in front of you, but I promise no harm will come to that little fleshcage of yours.” She straightens up off of the fence.

“I’m going to destroy you, Clootie.” Waverly’s voice sounds much calmer than she feels.

“With what? Child’s drawings and rock salt? I hope you don’t make me eat it and I have a sodium induced heart attack and die!” Her voice is thick with sarcasm. “How terrible.” Her voice grows slow and venomous. 

“Dolls!” Waverly shouts. 

Dolls stands up from behind the truck. “Mangez merde s'il vous plaît!” He shouts, yanking the passenger car door open and pulling himself in. Wynonna takes off running. She hoists herself up into the driver’s seat. Doc pulls himself into the truck bed and slaps the side of the truck a few times.

The engine roars to life like a beast full to the brim with fury. Wynonna puts it in drive and aims it right at Constance with the full intent to hit her. Constance waits, stock still.  
The truck suddenly swerves, a hair’s breadth away from Constance’s person. She mutters something under her breath and Doc flies off the truck bed. Wynonna’s curses split the air. He rolls on the ground, towards Clootie. His bones make a sickening crack on impact and his flesh audibly hits the ground as he rolls towards Constance. He stops at her feet, as if he rolled straight into an invisible wall.

She puts her heel on his throat and smiles down at him. “You’re going to be a great help.” She purrs.

The truck swerves one last time, halting with a violent lurch a few meters from Clootie.The driver door in full view of Waverly and Constance. Wynonna throws the door open and stands in the open door of the vehicle, with just her heels keeping a part of her in the truck. Her hair is messier than it was earlier and her chest heaves with rage.

“So help me god, witch-bitch.” She shouts the threat, hand on a mirror.

Waverly watches as Constance smiles down at Doc, a patronizing smile like a mother to an insolent child. “You can stay and fight me for your boy or you can run like a dog with its tail between its legs.” Clootie says the words as slow as molasses, an obvious taunt.

Wynonna is already riled up, her fists clenched and trembling. Waverly can read her sister like a book: she’s going to slug Constance and that’s not a fight that her sister can win. Waverly takes a deep breath, just noticing her own rapid breathing. 

“Wynonna. Run.”

“I’m not going to aband-” Wynonna's mind has already begun to shift from the agreed upon plan at the presence of eminent danger.

“Leaving doesn’t make you our parents. It doesn’t mean you don’t care. Trust me to take care of Doc. I will protect him. Trust me.”

Wynonna swallows her words and her rage and nods, sliding back into her seat and buckling it up. The engine rumbles to life, quieter this time. Wynonna reaches for the door.

“Coward.” Constance says, just loud enough for Wynonna to hear.

Wynonna’s hand reaching for the door halts mid-air. Her hands blur with the speed of her quick motions. She pulls out the Earp family revolver. She points Peacekeeper and fires a few shots off at Constance as the truck begins to move. Waverly can feel the invisible bursts of energy whiz past her.

Constance suddenly bends over, ever so slightly, before letting out a small hiss of pain. She takes deep breath. “Fine, then, no mercy.” Peacekeeper bullets disrupt spiritual energy, hence why it's typically used on ghosts. If one hit Constance? Waverly can only hope it disrupts the witch’s powers.

Constance straights up and locks eyes with Waverly before kicking Doc over the salt barrier, breaking the line. Doc grunts at the kick and salt is rolled into his wounds. Waverly runs to him, helping him up. He’s covered in cuts and his arm doesn’t look quite right. He smiles, obviously injured.

“Don’t feel so grand today, Waverly. One might say I feel a little under the weather.” Doc says, keeping his voice low.

Waverly nods. “Stay clear then.”

“This gent could never let a fellow soldier fight on their own.” Doc’s good hand fixes the collar of his jacket as he talks,

“Then help when you can, but don’t do anything you aren’t a thousand percent sure you can do.” Waverly pats him softly on the shoulder. He limps away.

Constance Clootie takes a slow step over the broken line of salt. She feigns a pout. “I wanted to play with him a little more. Oh well, I can always stick him down a well once I’m through with you. There isn’t going to be a Lassie to find him just like there wasn’t one to save your girl.” She takes slow steps towards Waverly as she talks.

Waverly squares her shoulders. Her stomach feels like a fist, clenched and angry. Constance takes that last final step. “Protego!” It bursts forth from Waverly’s mouth, wild as lightning and loud as thunder. Constance’s body makes a noise like she walked into glass. Her vile, playful, expression oozes off her features. Waverly smiles, proud of herself. “Oh, yeah. I used a Harry Potter spell on you, because guess what? It’s latin for protection.”

Constance’s fingers ghost over the invisible barrier. “Latin, huh?” She says it gently, like she’s trying not to spook a newborn lamb. She looks Waverly in the eyes as her face turns wicked. “Pefringo.” She states simply.

Waverly turns heel and runs before she can hear the magic barrier shake and shatter. Her feet fly beneath her as she beams straight for the house. Constance follows her with a slow villain walk as the sun sets behind her. 

Waverly’s elbow thuds against the wooden door as she frantically turns the handle and pushes herself inside. She slams the door behind her and locks it. She shoves a metal broom handle and jammed it into Wynonna’s makeshift lock. She recedes into the darkness of the house, her footsteps melding into the creaks and moans of an old building.

The knob shakes as Constance turns it. “Waverly, I’m a witch. I’ve had congress with preternatural beings of unimaginable strength. You think a simple lock made by teenagers is going to keep me out.” Constance grabs the doorknob. It oozes between her fingers like a thick sludge until it’s a silver puddle on the ground, running down the sides of the door with the texture of mercury. The witch sticks her hand through the hole the doorknob once occupied. She grabs the metal broom handle and melts it away as easily as the doorknob. The air is thick with the stench of burnt metal, it aches in Waverly’s teeth, like chewing on aluminum

The floorboards creak loudly as Constance Clootie steps inside, as if the house itself was rejecting her. “Stop dawdling and come on out, Earp. You and your ghost friend can’t hide forever, there’s only some many places she can go… in fact,” she waves her hands over her eyes. “I’ll just put a spell on myself to reveal all your hidden little traps.”

She looks around the house from her view in front of the door, nothing special. Open cabinet doors, an overturned couch, an open window with drapes billowing. There was nothing in the shadows. No spells scrawled into the walls. Just, an old house.

She looks down and startles at the small kitten on the floor in front of her. It mews at her, eyes wide and expectant. Constance laughs humorlessly, “If I didn’t know better. I’d say this was the thing you were protecting. It is cute, but-” Constance holds her palm out to the kitten “-children shouldn’t play with dead things.”

“And witches get stitches.” Waverly says it like a warcry, the words burning themselves into the air against the icy blackness of Constance’s slow menacing talk. She slams a bag of rock salt into Constance’s back, it bursts open like a blister, spewing its contents onto Constance. She hisses and rages as it burns her skin, falling onto the ground from the force of the impact and the pain of the salt.

The kitten scurries away, a mess of limbs, after completing its task. Waverly runs too, closing the window she snuck out of as she runs behind the house. Her heart beats violently in her chest, an ocean in her ears.

“We might actually have this.” She whispers to herself, breathlessly.

Constance appears at her side, a blurred form into solid. Her skin has melted away in spots, some to the point of exposing the milk white of her bones. Her blood is thick and viscous, the wrong shade of red. A smell like bile rolls off of her. It chokes Waverly, making a home deep in her throat.

The witch grins, despite missing half of her right cheek. “Don’t get too cocky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been travelling for sports and doing my schooling online so between gym time and education time. I've barely had time to sleep much less write. I'm severely bruised and I have a broken nose so my glasses don't sit right, needless to say, it's been a great sport time for me.
> 
> Sorry for not posting, I'm Canadian so i feel really REALLY bad. I swear I didn't forget. Thank you for leaving comments to update because otherwise this might have taken even longer to complete
> 
> The cherry on top of the shit sundae is, this is unedited by another person. I legit posted it the second I completed it, so I will probably post the edited version whenever i get this properly edited. 
> 
> also, please tell me if you want this to end at 12 chapters or extend beyond it because I have an idea for both. I don't want numbers. I want a good solid reason(s). Sway me with thy debate skills
> 
> I hope you liked it, thanks for reading, love you *hat tip*

**Author's Note:**

> See me at unicornsarehaught.tumblr.com and my delightful editor at sensitive-pigeon.tumblr.com


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